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IN PREPAEATION 
PKOTE A PLAY 



IDYLLS OF GREECE 



Copyright igio by 
Desmond FitzGerald, Inc. 



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Printed in U. S. A. 



©ci.A2?;^t:66 



FRANK AND ELIZABETH DEARDORF 



CONTENTS 

FAaH! 

PHYLLIS AND EMOPHOON ... 3 
PAN AND PITYS ..... 53 
PRAXIS AND NARCISSUS . . .105 
ORPHEUS AND EURYDICE . . .151 



PHYLLIS AND DEMOPHOON 





PHYLLIS AND DEMOPHOON 

ENEATH the silv'ry sympathy of stars 
That watch the patient progress of the 
world, 

Than maiden's love there is no truer thing, 
Nor aught more pure beneath the flaming 

suns. 
The finish'd orb that turn'd while yet the earth 
Flared fearfully in darkness ; that beheld 
The patient shaping of its loveliness, 
And view'd its growing grace expectantly. 
Is slave to Change ; shall wane and headlong 

plunge 
Adown the Night's insatiable maw. 
But maiden's love is like the primal calm 
That brooded over Chaos — asking not 
The Why or When, and caring not though 

gods 

[3 ] 



IDYLLS OF GREECE 



Create the dream and then dissolve again. 

For, like the simple flower in yonder field, 

That shows but once its beauty to the dawn 

And languishes ere even, maiden's love 

Is still and constant to the cherish'd thing — 

Its altar and its lodestone, and its peace. 

And though that pass, as all things fair must 

pass. 
And all dreams prove a dream's futility, 
The love lives on, like fragrance, and the while 
Scents the soft air and soothes the troubled 

world. 
And even as the modest daffodil 
Must rue the fickleness of early Winds 
And mourn their heartless wooing, so the maid 
Who loves when Fate opposes, and the gods 
Turn lovers' vows to idle promises. 
Must bear her lot ; must bend, but give no sign, 
As bends the chasten'd lily, but is mute. 

NOR darts nor spears now menaced broken 
Troy ; 
The trumpets had been silenced, and from where 
The yellow plains were black with heroes' blood 
The sated jackal howl'd beneath the moon. 
For ten long years the fated town had worn 
Its pulsing necklace — rows of armed men 
And awful engines. Grecian hosts had come 

[ 4 ] 



PHYLLIS AND DEMOPHOON 

Array'd in bronze and skins of tawny beasts, 

Or glinting splendor of a war-like day ; 

Had pitch'd white tents before the batter'd 

walls 
And, shouting, rush'd to grapple with their foe. 
And hosts had gone while yet the sun shone red. 
While yet life leap'd within them, to the dark 
Where, voiceless now and cold, they fought no 

more, 
Nor cared though fell the pillars of the world. 
Old Priam, too, was gather'd to his sons, 
Weary of life, of women, and the war 
Men waged for Helen's whiteness, while she lay 
And watch'd through heavy and adult'rous eyes 
The daily change of battle. Now the winds 
From Ilium's plain upraised the dust and char 
That once was Troy ; the sun-glare smote 

thereon ; 
The milder glances of the grieving moon 
Touch'd it again in pity. But no more 
From sacred courts would priests implore the 

gods. 
Or from the walls the brass-helm'd sentry call ; 
For Priam now was dead, and low the sons 
On whom he propp'd his utter weariness. 
And one by one the Grecian triremes turn'd 
Their high prows westward, and the oars shot 

forth 

[5] 



IDYLLS OF GREECE 



Like human hands and smote the sapphire waves, 

Impelhng homeward. And the heroes sang 

Ajax and wise Ulysses, Menelaus 

And mighty Agamemnon ; then they toid 

The rolhng flood of how Achilles slew 

The son of Priam, Hector ; and the slaves, 

Chain'd to the oars, would howl as wolves may 

howl. 
Whom instinct tells of carnage. But at night, 
When slept the heroes, and the sea lay still 
And brooded on the boastfulness of men. 
The sweating slaves would groan and bite tkeir 

chains, 
And call on Death to free them from the oars. 

AMONG the last to lift his face toward home 
Was Demophoon of Athens, king in mien, 
And doubly king in bearing ; one on whom 
The gods had smiled, and made invincible 
In fiercest fight ; one f avor'd of the stars. 
Yet man enough to love where lit his glance. 
And man enough as quickly to forget. 
For two long years his eyes had gazed on men 
And all the bloody incidents of war; 
Glory had waved her banners over him. 
Yet Death had let him triumph; now he strode 
The heaving deck, impatient, heeding not 
The dangers or the favors of the past, 

[6] 



PHYLLIS AND DEMOPHOON 

But only what the gods had yet to give. 
His trusted captain, Halmus, stood apart 
And watch'd the sea, as one may watch the 

face 
Of one most loved. A grizzled mariner 
Whose words were few, he knew its ev'ry mood, 
And scented now the coming of a storm 
From out the east, where all was ebon black, 
As if the winds had heap'd the darkness there 
To stay the dawn's advances. Troy was now 
Ten days a dream, as all the Past's a dream, 
A thing to sing of when the embers glow. 
And winter's winds push roughly at the door. 
And Halmus knew that it were wise to find 
A shelt'ring coast, and face the open sea 
When wind and waves subsided. " Demophoon," 
He said, as came the other to his side : 
" The sea is anger'd. It were best to turn 
Before the storm is on us. To the north 
The Thracian headlands offer harborage. 
If thou and I were on this ship alone 
We would not care; Death comes but once, my 

king; 
But wives and babes await in Athens now 
The freight we bear, these men who laugh'd at 

him 
Too long for us to sacrifice them now." 
And Demophoon was kingly. " Turn the ship," 

[7] 



IDYLLS OF GREECE 



He cried, " when thou art ready. Fight no 

more, 
For Greece still needs her heroes ; brave art thou, 
And lovest well thy fellows." Then at once 
The oarsmen heard the order, and the prow 
Made answer slowly till the roaring wind 
Had fill'd the mighty bellies of the sails, 
And soon the ship raced northward. Now the 

sky 
Was grey and heavy, and the sea was grey 
As if with ancient trouble; but the waves 
Still smote the ship and flung the stinging foam 
Upon the cringing rowers. All that day 
The waters hiss'd their fury ; and when night 
Had blotted out the light's faint sympathy, 
And stars and moon, the sailors' comforters, 
Were hid behind the anger-swollen clouds. 
They rose like shifting mountains, menacing 
The creaking ship and all who strove thereon. 
But Halmus still stood keen-eyed at the prow 
With Demophoon beside him. Silently 
They watch'd the piling waters in their wake, 
Or faced the dark before them. Overhead 
The shrilling Winds were singing lustily 
Such songs as they delight in ; but, below, 
Was heard the groaning of the haggard slaves 
Who tugg'd by turns upon the dripping oars 
And cursed the overseer. In the hold 

[8] 



PHYLLIS AND DEMOPHOON 

The heroes swore defiance of the gods, 
And smote their hands together ; but, above, 
The captain still stood guard with Demophoon, 
And all around them scream'd the dreadful 
storm. 

AND when the morn broke, Nature seem'd 
outworn — 
The Winds had hurried eastward, and where 

brood 
The Asian deserts, woke the fleet, wild horse. 
And fearful lions in their shelter'd lairs. 
But higher still the sea uplifted now 
Its racing waves ; and erst as that day died. 
And one by one the stars look'd out again, 
The liquid mountains sank to peaceful hills 
And hills became an undulating plain. 
But even then the slaves cried dismally 
And strove to steal swift glances through the 

ports 
To see if land were nearing. And the light 
That danced upon the waters lit their eyes 
And made them gleam with madness, and the 

blood 
Show'd black upon their shoulders ; still they 

row'd. 
Or bit their chains, or cursed until the lash 
Fell on their wounds and open'd them again. 

[9] 



IDYLLS OF GREECE 



And while the ship raced onward, Demophoon 
And Halmus sat together, and made light 
Of storm and danger. " By to-morrow's dawn 
The headland should confront us," Halmus said ; 
" And thou, my king, as thou art done with war, 
Perhaps to gentler things thy thoughts may 

turn. 
Lycurgus rules in Thrace, and men have said 
His daughter Phyllis is a maid most fair, 
A maid for kings, although Athenians say 
His people still are savage. Thou art young; 
Who knows but she may lure thee from the ways 
Of single men, and teach thee life indeed ! " 
" I, too, have heard of Phyllis," said the king, 
" 'Tis said young Naxos pined for love of her 
And faced the Trojan arrows day and night, 
Preferring poison'd barbs when Cupid's dart 
Had made his young life bitter. When he died 
That day the wall released him, I was near, 
And strove to lift the heavy masonry 
From off his mangled bosom. Naught he said 
Except the one word " Phyllis." Then his face 
Was grey as was the sea this awful morn, 
And from his eyes the light pass'd suddenly. 
For two long years my thoughts have been with 

men ; 
Music to me has been the clang of swords 
On slanting shields, the short, hoarse battle cry, 
[10] 



PHYLLIS AND DEMOPHOON 

The shouts of victors or the captives' prayers. 

And now, rememb'ring Helen, I am loth 

To see myself a slave to all that wakes 

Another's envy and another's hate." 

But Halmus drew his fingers through his beard : 

*' Love and the stars last ever. Who art thou 

To say ' I will '? The gods are over thee, 

And theirs it is to say what things shall be. 

These fifty years the sea has been my bride ; 

Each mood of hers I know. I know each wave. 

That rises once and then is lost again 

Amid the water's beauty. Storm or calm 

Proves unto me her passion ; and her foam 

Is like the light-tipp'd fingers of the Queen, 

The Cytherasan, whom the birds adore. 

True have I been to her, and she to me, 

Though faithless unto others ; and because 

She lures her thousand suitors to their death, 

Shall I evade her wooing, or dictate 

How gods shall prick my final journeyings? " 

But Demophoon look'd moodily to sea 

And seemed to weigh his answer. " Thou and I 

Are equal only in the eyes of Death, 

O Halmus, hardy sailor," he replied. 

" The many love ; the king must stand alone. 

Care sits upon his shoulders ; at his heels 

Suspicion creeps with her insidious voice. 

The very hand that proffers him his cup 

[11] 



IDYLLS OF GREECE 



May drop a poison in it. Would I were 
A man like thee, a simple mariner, 
Whose days are spent beneath the splendid skies, 
Whose nights are nights of danger, or of peace. 
I would I were a peasant, one who treads 
The dewy hills at dawn-burst, and beholds 
The heaven attired in all its changing hues. 
He walks with gods who shuns the heartless town 
Where strong men wither, and the mothers pale 
To see their children sicken. I would give 
Sceptre and crown to own a simple hut. 
Whereof a hound is guardian, with its smoke 
More dear than all the incense of the East. 
Then would I woo some maid, whose only dream 
Should be of children and the twilight hour 
That drove me homeward with my labor done 
And hands outstretch'd to her hands. I would 

draw 
The dear thing to me as the sun doth draw 
The happy sunflower, that with upturn'd face 
Awaits a golden blessing. She and I — 
But thou the sailor art, and I, the king. 
Whose crown has made the dream impossible. 
Stars would be suns, the sun would be a star ; 
The gods must surely pity man's unrest." 
And Halmus answer'd not. For he had loved. 
And knew the ache thereof and knew the joy ; 
And, knowing both, had sooner been a slave 
[12] 



PHYLLIS AND DEMOPHOON 

And heir to women's kisses, than the king 
Whose rank had kept him ever isolate. 

AND while they- both were musing, came a 
man 
Who pointed westward, and in sailor speech 
Said land was now a few short miles away ; 
And Halmus rose, and where the waves ran low 
Beheld the shore. " My eyes can see," he said, 
" How people leave the city on the cliff, 
Assembling in such numbers that the sands 
Are black in places. This, then, must be 

Thrace, 
Where now Lycurgus sits, and holds his court 
Amid such savage splendor that the stars 
Grow pale when once his palace lamps are lit. 
'Tis like this Phyllis, whom the heroes sing 
As once they sang of Helen, wears the wealth 
Of half an Asian province on her breast. 
Virtue and worth go ever unremark'd ; 
The hero loves the tinsel and the sham, 
But never sings in praise of diffidence." 
And Demophoon, the soldier and the king. 
Could answer naught. " To-morrow we may 

sail. 
If winds permit, for Athens," he replied. 
" The slaves have labor'd staunchly. Bid them 

rest 

[13] 



IDYLLS OF GREECE 



That thej may pull us happily to Greece, 
And they shall toil no longer. Would that I 
Were free as thou art ; free as they shall be 
To come and go, and do the things they will." 
And when the slaves were told what gift was 

theirs. 
They strove to shout, but could not ; and the 

king 
Knew well what meant that silence. But at last 
The rythmic movement of the oars proclaim'd 
The wretches' gratitude ; and while the moon 
Still lit the swaying waters, and the lights 
Along the shore grew clearer, up the beach 
The vessel glided, and the oars were still. 






ND when Lycurgus heard what king the 
storm 

^Had driven there for shelter, he made 
haste 
To bid him welcome, for the day was done 
Of enmity or war. And Demophoon 
Approach'd the palace as in times of peace 
A hero should approach it, through a host 
Of shouting men and maids, whose beauty vied 
With that of all the petal'd sisterhood 
With which his path was cover'd. Thus, at last, 
[14] 



PHYLLIS AND DEMOPHOON 

He reach'd the palace gardens, where the crowd 
No more might enter ; and an ancient man 
Array'd in white there met him and the few 
Whose right it was to follow. Then by beds 
Of strangest blooms and leafy, winding ways 
That led each moment upward, they arrived 
Where stood the palace with its gleaming stairs 
And fountains flinging jewels to the sky. 
And there Lycurgus met them. At his side 
The maiden, Phyllis, flower'd, and all his court 
Was ranged behind them like a scimetar 
Of wisdom, wit and chosen loveliness. 
And Phyllis, when she first saw Demophoon, 
Felt as the bird feels when it sees the snare. 
Yet, knowing well the danger, falls therein, 
And then is lost forever. But no sign 
The maiden gave of how her heart was touch'd. 
Only her face turn'd paler. " We have heard 
In Athens of thy beauty, gentle maid," 
Said Demophoon, as, bending o'er her hand. 
He proff'er'd her the homage due a queen, 
" But, true in that, men's silv'ry tongues have 

err'd 
In saying that a Thracian pearl was lost 
Amid a rugged setting ; here I find 
Thy gracious father and a noble court 
Lending a lustre to thy perfect grace." 
Then said Lycurgus : " If thou restest here, 
[15] 



IDYLLS OF GREECE 



We hope to prove that thought and elegance 
Bide elsewhere than in Athens. On the field 
Thou oft hast seen our heroes ; here they wear 
Their laurel-wreaths until the trumpets break 
The dawn's cool hush, and bid them noise to 

war." 
** All this I fain would learn," said Demophoon, 
" And rest a while where so much beauty is. 
But mom must find me on the settled sea. 
My ship's prow scenting Athens. Yesterday 
I laugh'd at danger ; now I face a foe 
So subtle that the strongest man may fall 
Who stays to dare him. Let me, therefore, 

hence, 
O wise Lycurgus ; for, though wind and sea 
Deliver'd me thy willing prisoner, 
To them alone that wait me I belong 
As ere I left for Ilium's windy plain." 
And when pale Phyllis heard the hero speak 
Her heart was all a-tremble. Well she knew 
The foe he dreaded was her maiden charm, 
Which catches men more easily than wit, 
Minerva's wisdom or the gift of gold. 

HAPPY the maid to whom, with sympathy. 
The solemn gods grant beauty. At her 
birth 
The wild winds sing impassion'd harmonies, 
[16] 



PHYLLIS AND DEMOPHOON 

And unseen splendors hover over her ; 
And each fair bloom that claims companionship 
With splendid stars uplifts its modest head 
To bid its sister welcome with a smile. 
Nature knows well when Loveliness is born. 
At early dawn the first, faint sunbeam tells 
The cool, lush grass ; and when the roses close. 
The purple-robed announcers of the Night 
Whisper the tale where brood the patient hills. 
Remember'd ever is the burst of dawn ; 
Death toucheth not the sunset. And with these 
Is Beauty deathless ; changing, it retains 
Perfection's spirit and is ever fair. 

WHEN Phyllis saw Lycurgus answer'd not. 
But stroked his beard and look'd upon the 

ground, 
She took his arm, then raised her gentle eyes 
To Demophoon. " Thou must not haste," said 

she 
With warmth, and yet becoming modesty. 
" For Rumor hath a quick and sland'rous 

tongue ; 
And what would Athens think if it were said 
That Demophoon, who fear'd no foe at Troy, 
Made haste from Thrace, because " — then stam- 

mer'd she 
And blush'd because she knew not what she said. 

[17] 



IDYLLS OF GREECE 



And Demophoon beheld her helplessness, 
And pitied her: " Because," said he, " he fear'd 
Beauty, that is more pitiless than Death. 
Women, perhaps, would say that I was base, 
A very coward in the lists of Love. 
But men, fair maid, would say that I did right : 
Who cannot love with honor, should not love." 
" Ye argue like two children ; like two birds 
Ye twitter without thought," Lycurgus said. 
And laid a hand upon an arm of each. 
" It were not fair to leave us, Demophoon, 
After so short a stay. The gods, perhaps. 
Had purpose when they blew thee hitherward. 
To rest is right, is good ; and thou hast earn'd 
The rest of heroes. Bide thou, then, with us. 
These coming days are days of sacrifice. 
And thou shalt see our temples. One we have 
Which, seeing once, thou shalt desire to stay. 
For fair it is, Athenian. Therefore, stay ! 
Tempt not the gods by venturing to sea 
Before thou askest of the oracle 
If waves shall bear thee homeward without 

hurt." 
Then Phyllis smiled, and lo ! to Demophoon 
It seem'd the world as suddenly contain'd 
A thing till then found wanting. " Wilt thou 

stay.?" 
She ask'd, yet knew his answer ere he spoke. 
[18] 



PHYLLIS AND DEMOPHOON 

" Our gardens are most pleasant. Trees there 

be 
Within whose shade the nightingales have sung 
Their songs to me in childhood ; pretty pools 
Where dream the lilies of the waxen buds 
That brood on Nile's still waters ; in the dells 
The bees intone contentment, and the deer 
Wander at will, and fear me not, nor mine. 
Such things I fain would show thee, and much 

more 
If only thou wilt deign to stay our guest." 
What man when tempted thus, had still said 

Nay.? 
Though all the stars had menaced him — dread 

Mars, 
And awful Sirius that from its post 
Of utter exile wrecks the plots of men. 
He still had waver'd. Though the Pleiades, 
Saddest of constellations, had essay'd 
To turn his course he still had follow'd her. 
And when Lycurgus said : " The maid speaks 

well. 
To stay with us and see the things she loves, 
Will add a pleasure to their loveliness," 
He kiss'd her hand, and follow'd where they led. 



[19] 



IDYLLS OF GREECE 



AND many days he linger'd, unaware 
Of how she bound him with the wondrous 

web 
Of maiden charm. For he who looks too long 
In woman's eyes must surely lose himself. 
As yonder cloud that wooes the arching sky 
Dissolves in fleecy passion and is lost. 
Now morn by morn, while yet Lycurgus slept, 
They trod the heights and watch'd the steady 

sun. 
Magnificently solemn, crack the dark 
Above the distant solitudes of Troy, 
And pour its wine along the Thracian hills. 
With lifted arms they sang the morning hymns 
To rosy-limbed Apollo ; with the dew 
They cool'd their flushing faces, and were glad. 
The hill caves knew them also. Echo heard 
Their careless laughter; and rememb'ring well 
The one she loved. Narcissus, fill'd their ears 
With all the ancient story of her woe. 
And one by one he learnt the shady haunts 
That made her gardens perfect; scentless dells 
Of utter peace wherein the asphodel 
Might slumber undisturb'd, and dream the 

dreams 
Of still, white flowers. And oft by shelter'd 

pools 
They linger'd, and were silent ; or attuned 
[20] 



PHYLLIS AND DEMOPHOON 

Their half-hush'd voices to the tiny brook 
That tinkled o'er the stones amid the fern. 
Thus pass'd a morn too quickly ; and at noon, 
When all the air was hot and tremulous, 
They stay'd within the palace, while the slaves 
Waved languor from them with their scented 

fans, 
And sang of loves departed with the leaves. 
And Demophoon, although he knew it not, 
Was often troubled by these songs of theirs ; 
And then his eyes would wander, and would rest 
At last on Phyllis, and his heart would seem 
A weight within him ; for the lover thinks 
When first he loves, or when he first grows fond, 
His quest is hopeless, and the world is harsh 
And all the stars against him. Night and day 
He wraps his soul in sable, until She — 
The thing he deems most perfect — is his own. 
But Phyllis hid her love from Demophoon, 
And even from the keenest of her maids ; 
*' If so it be the gods decree it not, 
My love is lost," she said, and said no more. 
Only at night when heaven seem'd all aflame. 
And e'en the dusk was odorous and warm 
With love-begetting silence, she would lean 
A little closer to him ; and perhaps 
He lean'd to her, as men have ever lean'd 
To beauty in the darkness. Thus they trod 
[21] 



IDYLLS OF GREECE 



The winding ways of leafy loveliness, 
And spoke but seldom. Dusk is consecrate 
To love and lovers, and a sigh is then 
More fraught with meaning than the winged 

words 
Lost in the golden sunlight. O'er their heads 
A thrush would sometimes lift its liquid note 
To where the stars were gather'd ; but the dark 
Soon charm'd the bird to silence, and again 
Night's stilly benediction cover'd them. 
And thus they came to where the sea now 

croon'd 
Its endless song, and, hearing it, became 
Possessors of its secrets, and forgot 
Their gilded fetters and their helplessness. 
For Phyllis dream'd his love was now her own ; 
This very sea had minister'd to her, 
Had borne him on its bosom ; had upraised 
Its many hands against his swift return 
To Athens and his people. Now he stood 
Beneath the stars beside her, and the sea 
Would storm until he own'd himself her slave, 
And perfect friendship turn'd to perfect love. 
Thus Phyllis dream'd, as maidens often dream. 
And, sometimes, men ; and later, when the moon 
Smiled chastely on her marbled loveliness 
At rest upon her couch, she dream'd again 
Of Demophoon, and night too swiftly fled. 
[22 J 



PHYLLIS AND DEMOPHOON 

BUT Halmus daily argued with his king 
To leave the Thracian beauty. " Let us 

hence. 
The sea is calling loudly," he would say ; 
" And ev'ry ebb my anchor'd ship turns home 
And strains to Greece. The heroes call on thee 
To bring the maiden with thee, if thou wilt ; 
But they, too, long for Greece. The very 

slaves, 
Whose wounds in wanton idleness have heal'd, 
Would bear thee home, and gain their liberty. 
Sometimes in dreams I hear a distant cry, 
A cry from Greece, for Demophoon, the king ; 
Thy people need thee, and the sea allures — 
Let us, then, hence while yet the gods permit." 
And Demophoon perused the other's eyes. 
Then faced, with folded arms, the calling waves. 
" Would we were back," he said at last, " in 

Troy. 
Amid this life I feel but ill at ease, 
Halmus, my friend. My thoughts are still with 

men. 
For men are like the star on which at night 
Thy raven eye is centred ; they are firm 
In friendship and in hatred. Woman's charm 
Lasts but the while I see her ; even then. 
The while she smiles, my thoughts will often rove 
To sterner ways of days that are no more. 
[23] 



IDYLLS OF GREECE 



We men uphold each other ; eye to eye, 
We know the god within us, see the best — 
The trust, the faith, the restless energy 
That makes us conquer while despising praise. 
But women, by their very gentleness, 
Their grace that charms like spirit of the grape, 
Would draw us down, as draws the clinging vine 
The oak's tried bough ; would make us singing 

men, 
Or toys, or monkeys, and, when manhood's gone, 
Turn elsewhere for their pleasure, wonder-eyed. 
Men were my first companions ; men have train'd 
These limbs while yet they trembled; men have 

seen 
What deeds 1 am most proud of; men have 

proved 
The man within me worthy. Of a truth 
I would that I were free as thou art free. 
I would thou wert the king ; that I at sea 
Might spend my days surrounded by such men 
As never herd in cities. By the stars 
I'd prick my daily course, and strive to be 
As well resolved and patient as themselves. 
As heedless of the smallness of the world. 
Thus I would live, O Halmus ; and when came 
The splendid hour of death, I'd have the storm 
Sing to my soul so wild a rhapsody 
That life would seem a thing to tempt a child, 
[24] 



PHYLLIS AND DEMOPHOON 

A pastime for a woman. I would hear 
The roar of waters and the seagull's scream, 
The howl of winds o'er darken'd solitudes ; 
Then with the men who follow'd me in fis-ht 
I'd shout the gods mj coming; and, at last, 
Fearless of what might follow, drink my fill. 
And drinking sink to silence and to death." 
" Think not of death while yet the trumpets call 
And work's to do," said Halmus. " Let us 

hence ! 
Hear how the sea is calling! Yonder stands — 
Somewhere beyond that surge of blue and 

foam — 
Our marbled Athens with her arms outstretch'd. 
Eager to bid thee welcome. All the stars 
Are smiling now on thee, O Demophoon ; 
And thou must home, while yet the wreath she 

gives 
Is soft and fragrant, and her praise sounds 

sweet." 
Then Demophoon look'd long to where uprose 
Above the hoary elders of the woods 
The palace of Lycurgus. " There she lies 
At rest," he whisper'd, while the sailor shrugg'd 
His heavy shoulders, then in silence turn'd 
And walk'd apart. " O wondrous maidenhood ! 
Thy sister is the lily, that upon 
Unrippled pools in utter silence dreams 
[25] 



IDYLLS OF GREECE 



The long, still dreams of spotless innocence. 

Beneath the sun the thing most sacred thou, 

Bud of the future blossom ; of the pearl 

Its perfect lustre. In yon marbled pile 

She sleeps, and dreams ! Above our heads is 

writ 
The changeless destiny of human lives. 
Yet gods alone can read it. She and I 
Are brought together by the wayward winds. 
And by the winds are parted when again 
The gods decree. O Halmus, thou art right 
To bid me leave before a wrong is done ; 
And yet — Ah, would that Troy were yet to 

raze. 
And Helen still to free for Menelaus ; 
To fight is simple ; death is simple, too ; 
And I, a fighter and a fighter's king. 
Was made for action, not for childish dreams." 
And while he ponder'd, Halmus to himself 
Excused his lord. " He Avavers yet," he said, 
" Who should be strong. And yet, I blame him 

not. 
Irresolution ! Since the world began 
Were men thus weak. Our better purposes 
Like snowflakes show, and vanish in the air 
Where love's concerned. Yet kings should 

firmer be ; 
Should wake no hope that may not be fulfill'd, 
[26] 



PHYLLIS AND DEMOPHOON 

And leave no broken flowers to mark their 

paths." 
Then turn'd the king and faced the solemn sea, 
All calm now and inviting. " Let us hence," 
He said to Halmus in a voice so low 
The other bent to hear it. " Let us hence 
To-morrow eve. One day is all I ask 
The gods to grant me. Athens, I obey ! 
One little day, then duty and — the night ! " 



UNCOMPLAINING Night, that wear- 




Thy weeds for him whose wide eyes seek 

an East 
Eternally beyond him; thou whose breath 
Is fragrant as compassion, and as mild ; 
Whose hands are laid on all the restlessness 
And woe of life, to soothe it, and assuage 
The anguish of its multi-colored dreams. 
What thoughts are thine when thou, in silent 

robes. 
Art come at last to that low ledge from whence 
The world becomes a slow-unfolding scroll? 
Unseen of all, in utter solitude. 
The stars confined amid the mystery 
That silences their voices, thou dost stand 
[27] 



IDYLLS OF GREECE 



As one may stand whom memory makes fond, 
Whose weighted lashes tell of spirit dreams 
And hopes that are remember'd, though so vain. 
About thy form, as clings the maiden mist 
Where brood the hills, thy sheenless mantle 

clings 
And hides thy body's beauty ; but thy face 
Pales through thy curling tresses, dark as are 
The shadows on unspeculative pools. 
Thus standest thou in silence, isolate, 
Above the world and yet below the skies 
That hear the splendid chanting of the stars 
And heed not Earth's remonstrance ; thou alone 
Hast pity in thy palms, and in thine eyes 
The liffht that makes the cradle consecrate. 
And one by one beneath thy lashes pass 
The day's desires, each broken-wing'd, that 

seem'd 
More fair at dawn than morning's aureole ; 
And deeds to startle worlds, that only prove 
Endeavor futile and ambition vain. 
But thou, O Night, maternal, pitiful. 
Whose hopeless love for that which ever flies 
Before thee, veil'd in glory, makes thee kind, 
Hearest the sighs of wearied suppliants 
And healest hearts that otherwise would break. 
Above the world, thy world, thy hands are held 
As if in benediction ; then from out 
[28] 



PHYLLIS AND DEMOPHOON 

Each blessed palm drips drop by blessed drop 
The dew, thy pity ; and the very grass 
Is sweet with all the holiness of tears, 
While trees and hills grow moist with wonder- 
ment. 
And when at last thou flee'st thy radiant love, 
The golden Day, whose trumpeter 's the sun, 
Men rise from sleep to bless thee, rise from 

dreams 
To brave the day and battle, knowing well 
Thy hands shall soothe them at the hour of 
peace. 

WHILE yet the darkness veil'd one half 
the world 
Lycurgus enter'd softly to the room 
Where Phyllis slumber'd. At her head her 

nurse 
Shaded the flame that flicker'd like a life 
Touch'd by the breath of Death, while at her 

feet, 
Blinking and still, a shaggy hound kept guard. 
And long he stood beside her, for he knew 
(As one who years has sufFer'd silently 
May read the grief behind the eyes of men) 
Her secret sorrow. Day by golden day 
This love had blossom'd like a pallid flower 
Hid from the sun; its petals had unfurl'd 
[29] 



IDYLLS OF GREECE 



With still insistence, and the time was near 

When it must offer to the wooing air 

Its beauty, and be bless'd or desolate. 

But Phyllis knew not that her love was known ; 

Nay, knew not that she loved. Yet now in 

sleep 
She breathed his name, the name of Demophoon, 
And darkness learnt her secrets from her sighs. 
And while she sigh'd, her father gazed at her 
With folded arms, and thought, perhaps, of one 
Whose slumbers naught could waken. Well he 

knew 
A maiden's sorrow is a mother's care, 
And none can help when she is call'd away. 
Then bent he down and touch'd most tenderly 
Her wavy hair, and left her to her dreams ; 
But all that night he sorrow'd, knowing well 
That men are blind and gods are merciless. 
For little heed the gods their handiwork 
Or care how end their schemings ; and at last 
When, though afar, the hound had sniff'd the 

dawn 
And laid its muzzle in the sleeper's hand, 
She woke and gazed untroubled at her nurse 
And sigh'd no more, nor knew that she had 

dream'd. 



[30] 



PHYLLIS AND DEMOPHOON 

BUT ere the silv'ry treble of the birds 
Proclaim'd Aurora nearing, or the skies 
Were bright with rosy promise, Demophoon 
Had sought a bower most dear to both of 

them — 
A stilly place that look'd upon the sea, 
A place of fern and lilacs, odorous 
As love itself. There coo'd two pretty doves 
Preening their pink and pearly liveries 
Unmindful of his presence. And the while 
He stood amid his memories of her. 
Thinking of winged words and stolen looks 
And swift, shy touches of impassion'd hands, 
She came upon him and — he yearn'd for her ! 
But now the Winds were waking, and they sang 
The splendid Hymn of Morning; sang the 

light; 
The flame-faced Dawn ; the marvel of the buds 
Aroused from sleep along with irises 
And scented things. Then Phyllis raised to 

theirs 
Her lovely lips, and off^r'd them her hair. 
For who the maid that worships not the Wind.'' 
And where the Wind that will not play with 

her "^ 
And, standing there, they watch'd the glory 

grow. 
And leaping waves aspire to crystal crowns 
[31] 



IDYLLS OF GREECE 



With eager, curling fingers ; and the Winds^ 
With Titan trumpets fashion'd to their lips* 
Blew longer blasts and louder, till the earth 
In all its secret places was awake 
And all the sea was echoing their song. 
Then turn'd she slowly unto Demophoon 
And chided him because his mouth was grave 
And sorrow seemed to dwell within his eyes. 
" The gods," she said, " are good to thee and 

me, 
Who live amid the glory. It is good 
To be alive on such a morn as this. 
To be as free as is the careless bird 
That wots not when its final note shall sound, 
But sings, and sings. Who knows what destiny 
The deathless ones apportion thee and me.'' 
Too soon we may be voiceless ! But to-day 
We have our being, and a day 's a life 
To him who truly lives it. We may see 
The things a myriad eyes no more may see ; 
Hear the sweet sounds that never penetrate 
To Proserpine's dim gardens. Now I live, 
And thank the gods for living ; when I die, 
If winds should blow thee here upon that 

day. 
Lay lilacs on my bosom, and their scent 
Shall speak to me of such a morn as this ! " 
" And ever more shall lilacs hint of thee," 
[32] 



PHYLLIS AND DEMOPHOON 

Said Demophoon. " But speak thou not of 

death 
Amid this subtle fragrance. Blooms like these 
Are Life's and Love's. The lips of goddesses 
Have touch'd them ere we waken'd ; and from 

eyes 
That soften'd as they gazed in wonderment 
At each delightful cluster, blessed tears 
Have dropp'd ; and still they linger, lest the sun 
Should sear such utter beauty with his kiss." 
And speaking thus he pluck'd a heavy spray 
From off the bushes. " This shall speak," he 

said, 
" Of thee, sweet maiden, when the envious sea 
Hints Athens and my duty. Thou wilt spend 
Long mornings here amid this loveliness 
While dawns for thee thy girlhood's heritage.'* 
" Amid such utter fragrance, and such peace 
As here surrounds us, Death too often lurks," 
The maiden answer'd. " In the shade of Love 
He creeps, unseen of lovers ; even now 
His hand may reach from out the odor'd peace 
And cull us to the silence. Wouldst thou go 
Unsighing to the mistlands, should he call,'' " 
" Until that moment comes I cannot say," 
Said Demophoon. " Men question not, but go 
When sounds the call. How often, facing Troy, 
His muffled trumpets drew my friends away 
[33] 



IDYLLS OF GREECE 



And left me there to battle ! Slaves and kings 
Went without pomp to where the dark enshrouds 
The lowly brow or noble ; and at dawn 
We only thought of Helen. For the dead 
Are things of mist to us whose pulses throb 
To life's sweet music while the day endures." 
And Phyllis said no more, but hid her face 
Amid the fragrant lilacs, lest he see 
The sorrow that lay mirror'd in her eyes. 
From where they stood they saw the surging 

sea, 
All silv'ry now and gleaming. On its breast 
The Zephyrs danced to melodies unheard 
Of mortals* ears, but wildly sweet enough 
To make the pale gods listen. And anon 
From fields near-by a lark soar'd up and up 
In measured flights with ever beating wing, 
And trill'd its benediction o'er a world 
Superlatively peaceful. Side by side 
They linger'd, speaking seldom, while the sun 
Follow'd the lark up, up, and ever up 
The blue serene; for all that ever was 
And all that is, however glorious, 
Must follow Song and him who dares to fling 
His broken notes among the gleaming stars. 



[34] 



PHYLLIS AND DEMOPHOON 

AND when Lycurgus heard his guest would 
go 
That very eve, he press'd him not to stay. 
" I came," said Demophoon, " one night to rest 
Beneath thy roof ; the days have come and gone, 
And still I linger. Athens calls to me, 
And I must hence to tell her of the war. 
Again I feel, as when on yonder ship 
I braved the tempest, eager and alert 
To face the gods and learn the destiny 
That's written for the morrow. In the hold 
The slaves have grown rebellious, and would 

break 
The rusted chains that clank beneath their feet. 
This mom they slew the wretch who flings them 

food, 
And broke his bones among them. I have sworn 
To set them free when once their task is done, 
And blame not their impatience. Thou art still 
Most kind to me, Lycurgus ; Thrace shall be 
Remember'd in my daily sacrifice ; 
But I a warrior am, with work to do, 
And dawn must find me 'compass'd by the sea." 
" Thou takest friendship with thee," said the 

king, 
" Than which the gods can grant no finer thing ; 
My days are almost done. Upon my cheeks, 
As though it blew from icy solitudes, 
[35] 



IDYLLS OF GREECE 



The breeze is chill already ; and the while 

I saw thee with the maiden, I did dream 

That thou and she — Ah, well! the gods know 

best, 
And Athens calls thee. Go for thy reward." 
But while he spoke the other raised his hand 
As if in protestation. " King," said he, 
" The empty plaudits of the gaping crowd 
To thee and me are nothing. Work is all, 
And faith of men. And I am one whose days 
Are spent with men since boyhood. Thus I 

know 
Friendship, and faith, and honor; but of love 
I know not yet, nor know I that I care. 
The while a voice is ringing in my ear 
I listen and am happy ; but at last, 
When once the voice is silent, I forget. 
It was not thus in battle. Even now 
I dream of shouts and clanging brass on brass. 
And thudding rocks by groaning engines hurPd 
Against the buttress'd walls of smoking Troy. 
Therefore I go to Athens. There I feel 
Man among men ; there men ask naught of me 
Except to lead them bravely in the fight 
And rule with even justice. Women's whims 
Make strong men weak. I was not made for 

chains. 
Nor would I barter freedom for a kiss." 
[36] 



PHYLLIS AND DEMOPHOON 

And old Lycurgus answer'd not a word, 
For well he knew youth's folly ; well he knew 
That men must stand upon the brink of death 
To learn of life, and love ; must first be old 
To know youth's value and a woman's worth. 
*' A fair wind feed thy brightly-painted sails 
And blow thee safely home," he said at last. 
" And if thou e'er hast need to call a friend, 
Forget not old Lycurgus. Very soon 
His place shall be among the kings that fell 
On Ilium's plain ; his voice shall silenced be. 
Or sigh as sighs the breeze among the reeds 
That nod above the melancholy sea. 
But while his eyes find pleasure in the sun. 
And he is fit for council or for war, 
Thy friend he is, and offers thee his love 
As here his hand ; then, take it, and — farewell ! " 
And Demophoon bent low, and saw him pass. 
Attended, from the chamber, as a king 
Whom all men honor passes. But his back 
Was bow'd as with much sorrow, and his eyes 
That once had braved the lightning of the 

gods 
Were troubled now and fix'd upon the ground. 
And all in vain his Syrian slave essay'd 
To hearten him with soothing melodies 
Won from a golden harp ; rememb'ring now 
The dream of gentle Phyllis, and the grief 
[37] 



IDYLLS OF GREECE 



That soon would make its home within her 

heart, 
His own was heavy, for he loved her well. 
And when the slave had left him, and he sat 
Alone beneath the purple canopy 
Above his throne, he mock'd his empty lot. 
For well he knew the lowly peasant knows 
The joys to kings forbidden ; and the herd, 
His labors done, beside his hearth can see 
A daughter's eyes grow soft above her babe. 



UT Phyllis gave no sign when Demo- 

phoon 

Had left her in the gardens. They had 
met 
Beside the fountains where he first beheld 
The tinted loveliness of rounded cheek 
Remember'd of young Naxos, when his eyes 
No more might see the sentried walls of Troy. 
And though as yet he had not said a word 
To tell her of his going, she had seen 
That very morn the sailors on the ship 
Run here and there, while Halmus scann'd the 

sky 
Or watch'd the palace ; and the eager slaves, 
Hearing the noise of feet upon the deck, 
[38] 




PHYLLIS AND DEMOPHOON 

Had sung the while they waited in the hold 
The praise of Athens and of Demophoon. 
And though the ship was far away from her 
She heard the song, and hearing, hoped no more. 
Then turn'd she to her slaves and bade them 

bring 
From carven chests of camphor-wood and fir 
A purple robe that hid without restraint 
Her body's beauty ; and her hair they loosed 
Until it fell below an ample waist 
Spann'd by a silver girdle. To her feet 
They bound her scented sandals, with their 

thongs 
White as her arching insteps, and as soft ; 
Then gave they her a disc of polish'd steel 
With rubied handle, and therein she saw, 
As in a pool the wan moon's loveliness. 
Her own pale face, and knew how fair she was. 
" Thou smellest of the lilac," said the slave 
She favor'd most. " The fragrance of thy hair 
Would make a god desirous. On thy brow 
The Dawn's white fingers linger, but thy mouth 
Is crimson like the tempting mouth of Love." 
But Phyllis gazed upon the gleaming disc 
And answer'd not. " Thy silken lashes droop 
Like curtains o'er thy melancholy eyes. 
And rest on cheeks of marble. Yesterday 
As crimson they as this red rose I place 

[39] 



IDYLLS OF GREECE 



Above thy heart ; but now the palest bud 
That mourns a bright, inconstant butterfly 
More hopeful is than thou. So fair thou art, 
Sweet child of Her ! I would thou wert not 

sad." 
" The very gods must suffer, why not we.^^ " 
The maiden answer'd, speaking to herself 
The while her eyes dream'd seaward. 
" Free are the Winds to go where e'er they will. 
Yet listen in the silences of night 
And thou shalt hear them moaning ; and the hills 
That love th' impulsive Dawn, whose iv'ry feet 
'Light on their brows and then as swiftly pass, 
Grow silent as the dusk descends on them. 
Hushing the fragrant valleys. In the skies 
Embolden'd stars step forth and disappear, 
Their song unfinish'd ere the morning comes. 
This rose has known a sorrow, and its scent 
Is but a protest, could we understand, 
Sigh'd to the gods whose ears are ever closed. 
And thou and I, who serve a while or sigh 
Amid the frenzied tumult known as life, 
Are less than they — than wind, or hill, or star. 
Less than the rose whose fragrance fills the air 
The while it passes ; yet we deem us free ! " 



[40] 



PHYLLIS AND DEMOPHOON 

AND speaking thus she pass'd with that one 
slave 
Down the wide marble stairway, till she came 
To where the fountains play'd, while up and 

down 
Her peacocks strutted, scornful of the skies 
And all the garden's beauties. And before 
The startled birds walk'd haughtily away, 
Revealing thus her presence, Demophoon 
Was seen of her as thoughtfully he paced 
Her fancied path. Then slipp'd the slave away, 
And Phyllis call'd him in a voice so low 
He heard her not until she call'd again ; 
And then he saw her. And without a word 
He went to where she linger'd, watching him, 
And bent above the fragrance of her hand. 
And when he spoke his voice was as the voice 
Of one who feels each minute is his last, 
And fain would tell in swift, impetuous speech 
A life-time's story. " Princess, I must go 
Because my people call me. I am one 
Whose life is theirs, is Athens'. Hapless he 
Who rules to serve. The peasant or the slave 
Laughs at the stars ; he builds his thatched hut 
Beside a brook, and, with his wife and babes. 
Moves evenly through life. Watch'd by the 

gods, 
Imprison'd in their guarded palaces, 
[41] 



IDYLLS OF GREECE 



With all men's burdens on their bending backs 
Kings stagger to their end. From dawn till 

dusk 
Cold eyes take note of them, and colder hands 
Belie the red within a courtier's lips. 
Led men may flock together ; but apart 
Kings walk, and poets, crown'd in loneliness." 
But Phyllis shook her head when he was done. 
" I only know thou goest," she replied : 
" And though thy lot is by the gods decreed 
I would that I might change it to thy wish. 
In other days, when other breezes blow 
Soft fragrances about thee, think of one 
To whom thou wert, and ever art, not king. 
But Demophoon of Athens. Think of me. 
When hush'd are all the brassy calls to war 
That make thy spirit straighten, as a maid 
Like other maids, most wistful, though her 

place 
And circumstance must make her seeming cold. 
And though my burden other be than thine, 
I shall not murmur, lest the gods deride 
A grief no god can ease or understand." 
And Demophoon was troubled, and his eyes 
Roved to the sea, whereon his eager ship 
Strain'd at its chain, as though it fain would 

seek 
The deeper waters ere the darkness fell. 
[42] 



PHYLLIS AND DEMOPHOON 

For while they spoke, with eyes that look'd 

away 
Lest each might gaze too long, and so be lost, 
The sun had sunk behind the Thracian hills. 
And all the sea was purple. And the fields 
Yellow with corn or green with long, lush grass 
Lay strangely silent ; for they knew that now 
The gentle Evening soon would pass that way 
And lay cool hands upon them ; and the Night 
Would watch them when they slumber'd, while 

they dream'd. 
And while the sun sank lower, darker grew 
The distant skies, and darker still the waves ; 
And all the ships, whose snowy sails were fill'd 
By truant winds, now seem'd like skimming gulls 
That rose and fell, and wheel'd and veer'd again 
And made the port or disappear'd to sea. 
And when the dusk had hid the tell-tale blush 
That warm'd her cheek, the maiden turn'd to 

him, 
Unfearing now her love might be betray'd. 
And bade him lead her once where wound the 

paths 
Amid her fragrant sisters. " See ! " she said ; 
" Each gentle bloom has closed its pretty eyes 
In slumber ere thou goest. When they wake, 
The winds will tell the roses thou art gone, 
And they shall laugh no longer. Ere the sound 
[43] 



IDYLLS OF GREECE 



Of morning's trumpets shocks the sleeping sea, 
The tears shall lie upon their crimson cheeks ; 
And though the glory shall seem dear to them, 
They still shall mourn for thee, for Demophoon. 
And while I pass, their eager thorns will strive 
To hold me prisoner, who let thee go 
Who loved them once and touch'd them ten- 
derly." 
But Demophoon made merry. " Nay," he said ; 
" When once thy roses see thy perfect face 
Above their own, they will not think of me. 
But here I vow, by yon transcendent star 
So constant and so perfect, here I vow 
To tread again these fragrant paths of thine 
Before thy roses vanish, ere they go 
Where thou and I must meet when all is done." 
" Men vow so lightly ; but the stars have heard," 
The maiden whisper'd. " If thou comest not 
The reddest rose shall droop before its time ; 
And Avhen thou standest in the fields of peace 
Where silence is, and Proserpine holds sway. 
The ghosts shall scorn thee, and shall turn aside 
To leave thee lonely, thinking of thy vow." 

AND thus they linger'd while the stars came 
out 
And heaven seem'd all a-fire. And now the sea, 
Restless and phosphorescent, like the flood 
[44] 



PHYLLIS AND DEMOPHOON 

That seethes around the making of a world, 
Flung on the shore vast waves that flared and 

flamed 
And thunder'd once and were forever still. 
" I vow to pluck thy roses ere they fade," 
Said Demophoon, the while he look'd away ; 
" And if I come not, be thou sure I sleep 
Beyond the sound of voices. But, behold ! " — 
He cried, as rent all suddenly the dai'k 
A ruddy flame that vanished like a ghost — 
" Yon signal bids me hasten. Halmus says, 
In that red speech, the tide would bear us home 
To Athens, and our duty. Fare thee well. 
My gentle Phyllis. May the deathless gods 
And brightest Fortune guard thee ; may the love 
Of those thou lovest circle thee about 
Like this sweet scent of lilac and of rose. 
And evermore be sure of Demophoon, 
Who bends before thy goodness, and would bear 
No fonder recollection through his life 
Than this chaste kiss he places on thy hand." 
And while she trembled, and with startled eyes 
Gazed at the dark about her, he was gone — 
While yet she heard the echo of his voice. 
While yet her hand was hot beneath his kiss. 



[45] 



IDYLLS OF GREECE 



SO still she stood, the night-moths fear'd 
her not, 
But sought, and left, their fragrant petal-loves ; 
As moths and men, since erst the world began. 
Have loved a while and flutter'd to the dusk. 
And, one by one, behind the shelt'ring hills 
The stars crept ever westward, where the sun 
Had bid them follow, laughing at their love. 
And luring them with brightest glances on. 
And very soon the wearied slave stepp'd forth 
From out the shadows where she long had hid. 
And kiss'd her sandal'd feet, and kiss'd again. 
But Phyllis said no word. Her gaze was fix'd 
Upon the far horizon, faintly seen 
As one long line that sunder'd her from him 
Whose face was as a dream-face ; still she heard 
His voice, his laugh, above the sobbing sea 
That never sings at twilight or at dawn. 
But whispers then its hopeless litany. 
And when the last bright orb had left the skies. 
And here and there a first faint flush appear'd 
To hint the coming Dawn, from where she stood 
Beneath the lilacs Phyllis held her arms 
Outstretch'd to Athens. For, with light, she 

saw 
Her fond illusion shatter'd, and the sea 
Now grey and all deserted ; and the ship 
That held her love had pass'd for evermore. 

[46] 



PHYLLIS AND DEMOPHOON 

BUT, one by one, the roses red and pale. 
Like thoughtless maids that love and are 
undone, 
Bestow'd their subtle sweetness on the air ; 
And, one by one, they droop'd their heads in 

shame 
Till all their velvet beauty lay a-waste 
And all their fragrance was a thing forgot. 
And other roses bloom'd, and went the way 
Of all things fair ; and soon the lilacs' scent 
Seem'd fainter than a half-remember'd dream. 
And still the sun shone, and the Winds' soft 

laugh 
Was heard at dawn while all the hills were wet 
And stars were faintly gleaming. For the gods 
Take little note of things that seem to us 
Of vast concern. Our griefs and our delights 
Are naught to them, who watch in marbled calm 
From golden heights and barriers of peace 
The fretful world. The things inanimate 
To our dull comprehension, things that were 
Before we had our being — these they love ; 
For trees are gentle and the stars are true, 
And oh ! the perfect sympathy of hills ! 
Yet gods may err. For truer than the stars 
The maid whose eyes look out upon the world 
In ever-growing wonder. In her heart 
Compassion dwells, and longing ; and a trust 

[47] 



IDYLLS OF GREECE 



That makes the warp'd thing perfect, keeps her 

kind. 
All's white within her, and a glory swathes, 
Protectingly, her being. Thus she lives 
In palaces of crystal ; thus she hears 
Insistent voices, faint yet ever near. 
That sing their songs of promise. And, at last, 
When all the glinting structure falls to earth, 
And thunders wake her latent womanhood, 
She rises, splendid ; and nor Time nor Death 
Can take from her the mem'ry of the past. 
But, day by day, pale Phyllis watch'd the sea, 
And paler grew ere sundown. Day by day. 
She stood where once the fragrant lilacs 

bloom'd. 
And watch'd the line that parted her from him 
Who vow'd to cull her roses ere they fell. 
But well ye know the value of a vow 
Made on a summer's eve, when all the air 
Is warm with subtle fragrance, and the maid 
Is fairer than a lily. Men have told 
A moon-awaken'd passion, and forgot 
Their frenzy long ere morning sober'd them. 
There's not a wind that cools a fever'd mouth 
More fickle than a lover, whom the dusk 
Makes half-desirous, as the bee is made 
Desirous of the bud at set of sun. 
But Phyllis hoped, and, hoping, was as one 
[48] 



PHYLLIS AND DEMOPHOON 

That sees the thing she longs for to her hand, 
Forgetting all is shadow. Still she dream'd 
Her sighs could reach to Athens, and her 

prayers 
Be heard above the noisy praise of men. 
And, day by day, she watch'd the white-wing'd 

ships 
Creep slowly up from Carthage or from Tyre, 
And heard the clanking menace of the chains 
While on their oars the slaves pull'd wearily ; 
But never came the ship she knew so well. 
And nevermore to her came Demophoon. 
And, day by day, she paled, until at last 
She watch'd for him no longer, being one 
With all fair things whose little hour is done ; 
That question not, nor wonder ; being one 
With utter'd song, with roses and with dreams. 
And all the sweet, slain weeds along the shore. 



[49] 



PAN AND PITYS 





PAN AND PITYS 

ESIDE a pool, a willow's width across, 
Amid the forest's lush serenity 
Old Pan lay sleeping. At his side his 
pipes, 
Dreaming, perhaps, of melodies unborn, 
Lay idle, too ; and all the air was soft 
With drowsy harmonies and song subdued. 
No noise of beasts, or forest revelry 
Disturb'd the sleeper ; in the boughs the birds 
Perch'd lazily and silent, and the Winds 
Had put aside their harps, and slumber'd, too. 
For Phoebus now had reach'd that highest place 
Whence curves the azure downward, and the 

while 
His smoking steeds raced homeward, on the earth 
Turn'd his bright gaze and scorch'd it with his 



pride. 



[53] 



IDYLLS OF GREECE 



From where he kept his gleaming chariot 
Upon its destined path, the glory stream'd 
O'er plain and hill ; it fill'd the lowly vale 
And bathed the rugged mountains. But the 

woods 
Absorb'd the sunshine as they might the rain ; 
And though each aisle soon quiver'd with the 

light 
Ask'd more and more, and were not satisfied. 
It seem'd as though in fields Olympian 
The gods were met, and there had garner'd it — • 
This golden sunshine. And the while they sang 
They look'd with love upon the gleaming world, 
And, laughing loud, upheld their shining hands 
And pour'd the glinting treasure on the air. 
It sifted down past isolated suns. 
Past all the flaming galaxies of stars 
And whirling constellations, till it touch'd 
Earth's airy veil, and then diffused itself 
Through all the order'd channels of the world. 
It swathed the bronzen beeches ; and the blooms 
That spent their days unnoticed in the grass 
Or hid beneath the needles of the pine. 
Were warm'd in their seclusion by the glow 
And bless'd as were the cedars and the fir. 
Unfearful of the hunter's barbed dart 
The pretty deer had sought the welcome shade 
And lay a-drowse, or raised their antler'd heads 
[54] 



PAN AND PITYS 



Whene'er a bird, or brown and shy-eyed hare, 
Disturb'd the silence and affrighted them. 
Thus Peace, the gentle priestess of the noon, 
Moved slowly through the forest, in her arms 
Wild roses, newly gather'd ; and the air 
Was odorous and heavy with the hum 
Of vagrant insects and the scent of pines. 
But Pan slept on, unmindful of the bird 
That twitter'd on his bosom, or the hare 
That leap'd across his haunches. Did he dream 
Of dances held at moonlight, where the woods 
With softest grass were ever carpeted? 
Or did he hear the subtle harmonies 
Beyond man's hearing — plaints of falling leaves, 
The soil songs and the choruses of winds ? 
Ah, ask me not ; for I can only tell 
The tales I hear, and more I do not know. 

AND when the steeds that coursed the arch'd 
serene 
Had toil'd perhaps an hour, there came that 

way 
From out the odor'd shade beneath the trees 
A nymph a-tiptoe. Glancing everywhere 
She braved the open, but with hand at ear 
Was wakeful ever for the faintest sound. 
Seldom to-day is seen such loveliness 
As hers, that flower'd amid those silent woods 
[55] 



IDYLLS OF GREECE 



Along with virgin lilies. In the night 
The pine's sweet fragrance and the smell of fern 
And wild, wet roses made her slumber deep ; 
But long before the squirrels were awake 
The forest heard her laughter and her song. 
So slight she was, the daisies minded not 
Her loit'ring foot, but each, when she had pass'd 
Sprung laughing up, with eyes inquisitive. 
And spied upon her beauty. White as milk 
Her limbs and body ; but her cheeks were touch'd 
With faintest pink, as where the sun has warm'd 
The tempting peach's downy excellence. 
Her eyes were blue as was the pool that noon ; 
Her lips were scarlet, and were curved beneath 
A saucy nose that match'd a thoughtless brow. 
But all the white and dawn-faint pink of her 
Was made more perfect by her matchless hair, 
Whose wondrous red enhalo'd like a flame 
The face that smiled beneath it, or was sad. 
And soon from where she stood upon a mound 
She saw the god asleep within the shade. 
And fear'd to wake him; but the butterfly 
Made no more noise than she, and so she pass'd 
All unobserved to where the lazy pool 
Allured the gleams of Phoebus. Then she bound 
Her flaming hair in coils about her head. 
And, lightly poised upon a balanced stone. 
She watch'd her beauty in the moveless flood — 

[56] 



PAN AND PITYS 



The perfect neck well-set above a breast 
Where babes might some day nestle, rounded 

hips 
And modest knees, and small arch'd feet of her. 
And when she saw how well the white of her 
Was mirror'd there, and all her loveliness 
Lay clear beneath, she smiled, and, kneeling 

down, 
Look'd closer at the face that seem'd to wear 
A sunset all about it ; but the skies 
No bluer than her eyes were, and her lips 
More scarlet seem'd than seeds of pomegranate. 
And when she thus had seen how fair she was. 
And noted well her ankles and her wrists 
And all the lily loveliness between, 
She stood erect and with protecting arms 
Flash'd headlong in the water. There she swam, 
Or floated idly as may float the leaf 
Which summer winds with hapless piloting 
Blow here and there across such tiny seas. 
But soon she wearied of her aimless sport 
And sought the reed-fringed edges of the pool, 
And there sat down, and let the breezes dry 
Her fragrant hair. And soon her glances roved 
To where old Pan still dream'd, if know ye 

would. 
Of fickle gods aflame for willing maids. 
And shepherds won by wooing goddesses. 
[57] 



IDYLLS OF GREECE 



And while she gazed, there stole across her mind 
The tale a nymph had told her on a night 
When, all alone, in silv'ry bliss enswathed, 
The peace had led to maiden confidence. 
*' Pan's love art thou now Niphe is no more," 
The nymph had said. " His eyes have follow'd 

thee 
By day and night, although thou knowest not 
His wayward wooing." Now reminded of 
The idle tale, she laugh'd, yet gazed the more ; 
And wonder'd why the stars so constant are 
While lovers vow, grow cold, and then — forget ! 
Then stepp'd she softly o'er the yielding grass 
And lay beside him, and her breath disturb'd 
The curls upon his temples, and he moved. 
And, moving, sigh'd her name. Then Pitys 

smiled 
And pluck'd a long-stemm'd clover, and there- 
with 
She touch'd the god's red nostrils, touch'd again 
Until he dream'd no longer, but beheld. 
While slowly Sleep released him from his spell, 
The gleaming nymph beside him, laughing still. 
" Awake, old Pan ! " she cried, and pull'd his 

beard. 
Then let him kiss the hand that tortured him; 
" Awake ! The Day is hasting to its close. 
Thou knowest well how soon the hopeless Eve 
[58] 



PAN AND PITYS 



Pursues, with lighted lamps, the flying sun 
When once he hurries downward to the west 
Where gentle Peace awaits him. Thou as well 
Art older now and sadder than this mom ; 
And yet thou sleepest, and thy pipes no more 
Allure my sisters from the beeches' shade." 
Then on her head the grey god laid his hand 
As on a thoughtless blossom ; from his eyes 
The mirth had now departed, and he gazed 
A little while so steadily at her 
That she at once was silenced. " Old am I," 
He said at last, the while he stroked her hair; 
" And sadden'd, too ; who have beheld these trees 
Shoot starward from their cradles in the soil. 
I piped their birth-song, and I danced the 

while 
Thy father woo'd thy mother long before. 
Older am I than forests, little maid. 
And I am far more weary than the hills." 
" Then take thy pipes and drive thy care away 
With wild, insistent music," she replied ; 
" These many days thou hast not play'd for 

us. 
Though oft where grow the swaying reeds I 

hide 
And watch thee brood, aloof from merriment. 
Thy pipes are ever idle ; on thy face 
The shadows linger, and thou laughest not 

[59] 



IDYLLS OF GREECE 



As was thy wont when fondest Niphe came 
From out the woods and charm'd thy gloom 

away. 
Then be not sad, good Pan. I would that I 
Might make thee smile ; play once for me, and 

thou 
Perchance shalt all thy weariness forget." 
Then gave she him the reedy instrument, 
But Idss'd it ere he placed it to his lips. 
And then he blew a plaintive melody 
As none may hear who lived not in the days 
Of dream and of desire ; so sweet an air 
As made the breezes envious, and the trees 
Sway their lithe arms in utter ecstasy. 
And Pitys lay, the while the old god play'd, 
With chin in palm, and beat upon the grass 
Her tiny toes to suit the music's time, 
Biting the while the long, sweet clover stalk 
As fragrant as her maiden innocence. 
But now Pan's mood was changing, and he 

play'd 
A sadder air, an air of falling leaves 
And chilly dusks, and skies that threaten men 
Despite their dumb submission to the Fates. 
It seem'd to Pitys that before her eyes 
Pass'd Autumn in her robes of violet 
And noiseless sandals. Whisp'ring to the world 
The Hymn of Preparation, on the trees 
[60] 



PAN AND PITYS 



She laid her hands and bless'd them, shriving 

them 
For wanton wooings with the winds of spring, 
Preparing them for sleep. Upon the hills 
She also linger'd, and the upland blooms 
Beheld the holy beauty of her face 
And closed their eyes to other loveliness. 
And then he play'd a dirge funereal, 
A hymn of Night and cloud-enshrouded stars, 
Of stilly heights and forests fast asleep 
Beneath the snows of winter. From afar 
The music came, and vanish'd like the shades 
Of mighty trees when hidden is the moon. 
And then it seem'd to Pitys, watching him 
With parted lips, that Pan grew glad again. 
For now he blew a wild, unearthly strain, 
A strain of wind and clouds that ever changed 
In skies of gold and azure ; in her ears 
The cymbals sounded of the clashing seas 
When Neptune sits in splendor, or from out 
The depths the Queen arises, she who is 
The world's one love, white Venus, the Desired. 
Then wilder grew the music, till it seem'd 
Before her eyes night's stars were all a-whirl 
And all the sky was flaming. And at last 
With one long note that swell'd and died 

away 
And swell'd again, and stopp'd most suddenly, 
[61] 



IDYLLS OF GREECE 



Pan ceased, and laugh'd; then laid his pipes 

aside 
And Silence breathed her peace about the twain. 

WHERE are je gone, sweet melodies of old. 
That charm'd the ears of pensive maiden- 
hood 
And made the wood nymphs listen ? On the hills 
Th' illusive wind still trails its winged feet, 
And Beauty haunts the forests ; but no more 
In shaded glen or where the hills arise 
Are heard the pipes of satyrs, or the songs 
That woke the woods when pale Diana pass'd. 
Above our heads the blessed lark still sings, 
And vanishes in music ; and the while 
We wait in breathless wonder its return 
We think of ye, the first sweet melodies 
That broke the glen's cool silence, and regret 
The subtle music we have never heard. 
Ye are no more. Perhaps in other days 
When dreams return to soothe the weary world 
And teach its foolish children to enjoy. 
The uplands shall be waken'd in the dawn 
By Pan's clear flute ; the shaded dells may know 
The song of wide-eyed faun. And though no 

more 
The joy of morn or dusk shall come to us, 
And though we hope no longer, nor may yearn, 
[62] 



PAN AND PITYS 



The far, faint echoes of the happy strain 
Shall fill the air, and bless us, in our sleep. 

THEN Pitys rose, and stroked the god's 
rough cheeks. 
" Thou pipest well, indeed, old Pan," she said ; 
" The air still trembles with thy melodies. 
And, hark ! A thrush has caught that last, 

sweet note 
And sings thee back thy music; and the Winds 
Have laid their fitful fingers to their harps 
To play when once the trilling voice is still. 
So oft I've heard thee wake the sleepy woods 
At twilight when the stars grow languorous 
And only shepherds listen ! But thy pipes 
Are sweet with subtle sadness. Never now 
Thou pipest of the morning, or delight, 
Of loves of laughing roses. Sad art thou, 
O gentle Pan, despite thy fadeless crown, 
Despite thy gift of music. Tell me why.'' " 
Then lean'd the nymph against the grey old god 
And tenderly caress'd him, as against 
A crumbling wall the honeysuckle leans. 
Fearless and very fragrant. From the sky 
The pawing steeds and flaming chariot 
Of silver-sandal'd Phoebus now were gone, 
Resting in coral caverns by the sea 
Until the call of Morning; and the light 

[63] 



IDYLLS OF GREECE 



That linger'd on the mountains, and upon 
The voiceless woods fell still and solemnly, 
Was subtly soft, as is the touch of one 
That loves with holy passion. Then again. 
As though no ear might hear her save her own. 
Spoke gentle Pitys, and her face was turn'd 
To where the first star glitter'd in the sky. 
" O Hesperus, thou that risest o'er the hills 
Like silver'd priest from hidden lands of dream. 
Bearing the solemn peace of sapphire seas 
And gentle drowsiness in either hand. 
Heed thou the praise that rises from my heart, 
Hear thou the hymn that must be sweet to thee. 
Behind thee treads the Evening, shadow-eyed. 
Whom now we welcome. Thou her herald art, 
Because thou art most fair, most pure, and 

young. 
The little birds cease singing when they see 
Thy first faint gleam ; they tell the breathless 

deer 
Thou shinest in the sky, where reigns the moon. 
And Dian hunts no long,er. Now no more 
Her maidens roam the forest. Day is done. 
The altar smoke is rising; in the fields 
The cattle are at rest. Look down on us, 
O Hesperus, gentle Even's eremite. 
The while thou movest onward; dart thy rays 
On Pan's grey head and mine, until the moon 
[64] 



PAN AND PITYS 



Bathes us in soft effulgence. And at last, 
When come thou art to where the pale gods sit 
Beyond the noise of mortals, speak of us 
As loving them, as two that fain would kneel 
In amber twilight near them, and at peace." 
The while she pray'd, the grey god took his 

pipes 
And play'd again, a soft, illusive air 
Such as suggests the wild wind in the wheat. 
Or rain on shallow waters. And the moon, 
Still large and golden, on the god's curl'd locks 
Stream'd silently and softly. But the hair 
Of her that look'd with wide, unseeing eyes 
Upon the deep'ning shadows, smoulder'd now, 
As though far down amid its scented dusk 
A flame were hidden, and from time to time 
Lit all the depths of wavy wondrousness 
That shaded well a brow so chastely white. 



|?H0 that has heard, on such a summer's 
f night. 

From out the utter silences arise 
The restless wind, but wonders if its sigh 
May stir a nymph's hot pulses.'' Who that sees 
The shadows sway to fairy melody. 
But wonders where the player with his flute.'' 
[65] 




IDYLLS OF GREECE 



Who has not seen the uncomplaining trees 
Move in their dreams, or watch'd the ghostly 

dance 
Of yellow'd leaves, nor felt that other eyes 
Beheld with his the ancient mystery? 
Who has not felt, when all the woods are still. 
Upon a cheek grown pale beneath the moon 
The stir of half-heard sighs, or ghostly breaths 
That hint a presence hid amid the fern? 
For though no more we dream the dreams of 

old, 
Or hear the olden voices, in our midst 
The gods still linger. As of yore they watch 
From viewless thrones amid the amethyst 
Night follow Day, and all the incidents 
That seem to us important — birth and death, 
And love that makes us restless as the sea ; 
And when the blue serenity is won 
By monstrous storm, and heaven's wide arch is 

split 
By horrid flame, they ride the purple clouds 
And thunder their derision to the stars. 
We see them not ; and yet the same gods tread 
The forest's needled grasses ; they abide 
In silent places where the bee lies faint 
Above the ravish'd clover; and the while 
The shadows glide beneath the silver'd trees. 
And Night bends low above the sleeping world, 
[66] 



PAN AND PITYS 



They seek the haunts that still are dear to them 
And tell the tales our ears no more may hear. 
The gods are with us still; and Loveliness, 
Whose name is Change, although we know it not. 
As once she pass'd while yet the world was 

young 
From place to place moves ever silently. 
That men may see the glory of her face 
And strive for higher things. Upon the hills 
She walks at dawn ; the sunset is a smile 
Upon her solemn features ; and the hush 
Of heavy noon, when all the pools are still, 
Tells of the peace that ever circles her. 

THEN Pitys took from where they idle lay 
The silent pipes. " The moon has made 
me dream. 
Old Pan," she said. " Blow now that I may see 
The phantom things that come when music calls 
On velvet nights, pale things that softly flit 
Within the shadow when the dawn appears." 
And onc» again the grey god play'd for her 
A wild, low strain ; a strain that seem'd to melt, 
Enamor'd, in the fragrance of the dusk. 
And she who lay and listen'd at his feet, 
With chin in palms and elbows in the grass. 
Was still and silent like a marbled thing 
That wonders in the moonlight. And the while 

[67] 



IDYLLS OF GREECE 



The mellow notes rose upward to the stars, 
She watch'd the god, and in his slanted eyes 
Saw that which drew her to him. Then she 

rose 
From out her bed of clover ; and she stood 
With one white arm about him, cheek to cheek, 
While he blew gently on his magic pipes. 
But blew no more when once she lean'd too far 
And placed her lips near his. For now he 

turn'd 
And clasp'd the nymph, who fain had drawn 

away 
Had he not held her firmly. Then he spoke, 
As spoke the gods when maids were yet to win 
By love and wooing; and his voice was soft 
As skies are soft when twilight yields to night: 
" Now art thou caught, bright nymph. Yet, 

fear me not. 
Despite my rugged wooing. Safe art thou 
In these huge arms as when thou swingest high 
Above the earth thou lovest. Never yet 
Has Pan despoiled the charm of maidenhood 
Or made a nymph unhappy ; never yet 
Have list'ning fauns fled frighten'd when his 

pipes 
Made music in the forests." But the child 
From his embrace essay'd to free herself 
And smote him — ah ! how lightly — on his cheek. 
[68] 



PAN AND PITYS 



" Dear Pan ! " she pleaded, " let me go, good 

Pan! 
I fear thee not ; for good thou art and kind. 
But stern is white Diana. She may step 
From out the gloom and see me. Let me go ! " 
But Pan held fast tlie nymph, and heeded not. 
" I love thee, maid," he whisper'd in her ear ; 
" I love thee, Pitys ; I, who older am 
Than forest Titans, love thee, with thy hair 
Ruddy as primal fire. I have beheld 
The northern maidens whiter than the moon, 
And sloe-eyed beauties tann'd by wind and sun ; 
And I have seen the face of Her whose gaze 
Would blind thy gentle vision ; but, like thee 
No maid have I in all my wand'rings known." 
And she, well knowing that to plead were vain, 
Caress'd his cheek, but teased him with her 

speech : 
*' And I, old Pan, am younger than the fir 
That grows by yonder pool. When I was born 
The fir was half its height, and sixteen years 
I watch its aspiration to the stars. 
Good Pan, dear Pan, thou must not hold me 

thus. 
I fear the white Diana ! There may be 
In yonder copse, a satyr who will tell 
His fellows of thy wooing and my shame. 
Then kiss me once, nay, kiss me many times 

[69] 



IDYLLS OF GREECE 



If kiss thou wilt ; but let me go, good Pan, 
Before the nymphs behold and laugh at me." 
But Pan held fast the maid in his embrace. 
" Love asks for more than kisses," he replied ; 
" And thee I love, sweet Pitys. Mock me not, 
Whose years are more, a thousand-fold, than 

thine ; 
For so much more I love, and so much more 
Can love than one whose years, like thine, are 

few." 
Thus spoke he, and was silent, holding still 
The partly willing maid. No satyr yet 
Had woo'd and won her from her couch of fern 
Where sway'd the solemn shadows, or had made 
Her pulses beat the faster with a song 
That quaver'd in the moonlight and was gone. 
And yet in dreams this thing had come to her, 
And Eros, golden-quiver'd, in her heart 
Had shot his first, swift arrow. But the one 
Whose face illumed the vast domain of Night 
And paled the silver splendor of the stars. 
Was one whose eyes beheld the doors of Life 
With eager expectation, one who smiled 
At Death itself when Glory's trumpets call'd. 
And him the nymph remember'd ; for the heart 
Of youth seeks youth, and lips that kiss and 

cling 
Despite the warning thunder of the gods 
[70] 



PAN AND PITYS 



To youth alone, that heeds nor gods nor man, 
Will make surrender as the dusk descends. 
" So often thou hast loved," she said at last. 
When warm she felt his breath upon her cheek, 
" That thou thyself deceivest, gentle Pan. 
No goddess I to win thee with a charm 
Beyond maid's comprehension. Thou hast 

piped 
In stilly woods beside the knees of Her 
Whom men and gods call fairest ; thou hast seen 
Diana's beauties, and the Dawn has heard 
Thy fond farewells, thy promises and sighs. 
To more fair maids than I have ever known. 
And Echo says thy promises are vain ; 
For, once, she was thy darling, but no more 
Thou wooest her, or with thy mellow flute 
Dost drive the swaying shadows from her eyes. 
And Niphe, too, who died, so sing the birds. 
Because thou wouldst not wed, but only love. 
Thou lovest but this ruddy hair of mine, 
These rounded arms far whiter than the milk 
Of mountain goats ; my lips, my eyes, my 

throat — 
Thou lovest these, but me thou lovest not. 
O fickle Pan ! I beg thee let me go 
That I may seek my bed amid the fern." 
But Pan knew well that women, to be won, 
Must be besieged, and so held fast to her 
[71] 



IDYLLS OF GREECE 



And pleaded further, " Thee alone I love," 
He said with lips that warm'd her crimson ear; 
** With others I have dallied when the woods 
Were hot at noon ; and I have play'd to them 
And said, perhaps, I loved them. But the gods 
Take small account of whisper'd promises 
Or vows of ardent lovers. Thou alone 
Art she to whom the very stars would lean 
To see perfection ; and to thee I make 
The vows that shall be lasting. Think no more 
Of Echo or of Niphe. Nymphs they were 
That pleased my idle moments, made me pipe 
And kiss'd, perhaps, to hear me pipe again. 
These many years I play the marriage songs 
For gods and men. Who thinks that Pan may 

love ? 
Who thinks that he may shun the solitude 
Of these our woods, and wish that at his side 
A maid might linger whom he calls his own ? 
But now I scent the even-tide of life. 
And know that I must soon lay pipes aside 
And lay me in the shadows. Therefore now, 
With yet some little glow about my head. 
With dreams still mine, and music and desire, 
I fain would win thee, that as dusk descends 
Upon thy head and mine we both may tread 
The downward path together. Here I swear 
I love thee, gentle Pitys. By the dusk 
[72] 



PAN AND PITYS 



And by the clouds I swear it ; by the trees 
And tiny blooms that dream amid the peace 
Of these my forests. If thou wilt I'll swear 
By thine own beauty, by the hair that bums 
With all a sunset's glow above thy brows." 
But Pitys laugh'd. " Such things must pass," 

she said ; 
" The dusk is naught to swear by, nor the cloud ; 
The clouds are fickle, and the dusk is gone 
The while we whisper; and the blooms that 

dream 
Amid this peace await a tardy bee 
To profit by their fond inconstancy. 
And though my hair be ruddier than flame, 
A year may see it greyer than the sky 
Ere heaven's bright gates are open'd. And, 

methinks. 
The time has been when Dian's golden locks 
Seem'd fair to thee, and Echo's hair of brown ; 
And who shall say, now Niphe is no more. 
And willows mourn above the dust of her, 
How fair to thee her raven tresses seem'd 
The while thy lips were hungry for her throat? 
Thy vows, O Pan, are like the vows of men — 
Made to be broken and re-vow'd again." 
" Then swear I by the mountains," Pan replied. 
" See how they rise in purple majesty 
To where the stars assemble ! On their crests 
[73] 



IDYLLS OF GREECE 



The light falls and the shadow. They behold 
The storm arise and then outwear itself; 
They hear the wild Winds threaten, and the sea 
Proclaim its hopeless fury ; but, despite 
The world's unrest, and though the gods make 

war 
Until the air may tremble, evermore 
The solemn hills are changeless and are calm. 
To-day we are ; but soon the day must dawn 
For thee and me — nay, watch me while I speak — 
When only once our eyes shall see the sun, 
When only once our lips shall sing its praise. 
Love's voice must soon be silenced, and his wings 
Be folded ever ; but the hills shall brood 
Above the crumbled sepulchres of men 
And altars raised to long forgotten gods. 
The hills alone stare scornfully at Time ; 
By them I swear, O Pitys, whom I love ! " 
And now the maid, half won, lean'd close to him. 
" Thy speech is other than the speech of youth, 
Old Pan," she said. " Thou speakest like a 

god; 
Like one that knows all mysteries, and is 
A part of all we worship. Yesternight, 
While through the boughs the moon's soft 

radiance stream'd, 
A shepherd knelt beside my fragrant couch 
And said he loved, and bade me go with him 
[74] 



PAN AND PITYS 



To where his dogs bay'd welcome ; but his eyes 
Were not like thine, that hint of tenderness 
And dreams untold because no ears invite. 
And though his lips were crimson, and his voice 
Was softer than the saddest of the winds. 
He loved me not. His words were passionate 
Because his heart was hot, desiring me 
Who still am young and ruddy ; but his love 
Had died at dawn had I been kind to him, 
And evermore had he been cold to me." 
" But I, O Pitys, who am sad and old. 
Love now with all the ardor of the sun 
That sinks in crimson splendor to its death," 
The god replied. " Too well it knows that soon 
Night covers all, and that the pride of dawn 
And youth's wild flush are things that cannot 

last. 
First love is dream, the second love — desire ; 
The love that follows is the love that counts. 
I love thee for thy beauty ; for thyself ; 
I love thee for thy charm and innocence ; 
I love thee as I love the daffodil 
That makes the meadow perfect. Blue thine 

eyes 
As blue-bells in the morning, and thy mouth 
More tempting is than all the crimson blooms 
That scent the woods in summer. Old am I, 
O gentle Pitys ; but the hearts of them 
[T5] 



IDYLLS OF GREECE 



That dream, or know much sorrow, kinder grow 
As greyer turn the locks once black or gold ; 
But Youth is selfish, and the stars look down 
In wonder, and in pity, when it loves." 

AND pleading thus, nor Pan nor Pitys knew 
That, peeping through the sky's far lat- 
tices, 
The stars beheld his wooing. For the blue 
Had soften'd into purple, and the greys 
And subtle tints of pearl and lavender 
Had slowly vanish'd in mysterious hues 
Suggesting deeps profound. The gold was 

gone. 
And all the brighter glory ; too, were gone 
The crimson, grey and wondrous opal tints 
That come before the twilight ; and the sky 
Was soft with love, though faintly-crimson'd 

clouds. 
That yet beheld bright Phoebus and his car 
Descending seaward, hung above the west 
Like brooding doves, at peace and motionless. 
But while one watch'd, the crimson seem'd to 

change 
To grey and black ; and then the peeping stars 
Aware their hour was come, stepp'd boldly 

forth 
To chant amid the ebon solitudes 
[76] 



PAN AND PITYS 



The wondrous hymn of Night's ascendancy. 
Beneath an oak a cricket sang its song. 
A requiem for the ever-falling leaves 
That know too well how merciless is Time 
And how all things are transient. For the 

trees 
Were hoar with age before our race was young. 
Were hoar with age while yet the early gods 
Beheld the earth unpeopled, and evolved 
From idle dreams the human mystery. 
And aeons hence, when men and gods are not, 
And love is Death's most cherish'd memory, 
The trees shall tell in whispers to the winds 
Strange verses from the tragedy of life. 



JUT Pitys question'd still, yet evermore 
Lay nestled on his bosom. " Pan," she 
said, 
" I would thou wert a shepherd. He might 

love 
And weary not of loving; thou art one 
To whom each face is fairer than the last. 
Because thou seest many. Who am I, 
A simple nymph, to hold thee in control 
When splendors find thee pleasing.'' When afar 
The forest wantons lead thee, and thy laugh 

[77] 




IDYLLS OF GREECE 



Dispels the solemn shadows, how shall I 

Be happy or contented? I would keep 

The thing I love beside me ; he and I 

Must watch the red and tiny pimpernel 

Foretell the coming humors of the day ; 

Must revel in the sunshine, note the clouds 

And hear the rain's soft whispers hand in hand. 

If once I love, O Pan, I would be loved ; 

Not kiss'd and then forgotten. He must see — 

This one who is, as yet, a thing of mist — 

The ultimate perfection in my face. 

And find what wealth of tenderness abides 

Within my heart, and thus be satisfied. 

I would thou wert a shepherd — one that loves 

The soil and things that vanish. He is kind 

Who knows that all is passing ; night and day 

He stays by her that loves him, tempted not 

By siren voices calling him away 

From where true love sits silent." But the eyes 

Of Pan, that oft would twinkle like the stars 

When fretful clouds are banish'd by the winds, 

Were now so sad that she grew very kind 

And placed her hand across them. " Tell me, 

Pan; 
What is this love.? " she questioned. " Yester- 
night, 
The while the pale moon listen'd, and the motlis 
Above the jonquils flutter'd, in my ears 
[78] 



PAN AND PITYS 



The shepherd whisper'd softly. Young was he, 
And sad, perhaps, the while I gazed at him. 
And while he spoke I thought how fair he was. 
And wish'd that I could love him; for his voice 
Was sometimes low and sometimes passionate, 
And his was all the wondrous bloom of youth. 
But thou art old, and thou art blinded now. 
All things thou knowest : why Diana grieves, 
Why shepherds meet white Venus in the woods, 
Why I grow restless as the dusk descends, 
And why so pale is fair Endymion. 
What is this love, O forest melodist.'' 
Perhaps I love ; perhaps I know it not. 
Perhaps thy voice, unknown to thee, may be 
The voice to make me waken from my dreams. 
Or dream the more." Then Pan removed her 

hand 
And kiss'd it once. " These things I truly 

know," 
He answer'd sadly ; " and, if thou wouldst hear. 
Strange tales of sweet and half-forgotten things, 
Long nights I might amuse thee ; but of love. 
Who knows the secret save the Queen thereof. 
White Aphrodite.'' She alone can tell 
By what strange alchemy the coldest heart 
Becomes enamor'd, or the rose-like maid 
Is drawn to him who loves her. When the gods 
Bestow their gifts, 'tis best to question not 
[79] 



IDYLLS OF GREECE 



Lest favors fail ; and he that sings of love, 
Or tells the world the wondrous ways thereof, 
Is often one on whom the shadows fell." 
But Pitjs sigh'd, as if she heard him not 
And knew not of his presence: " Could I love, 
Methinks I'd tell the very stars thereof 
In winged words, and each fond syllable 
Would make a Zephyr joyous. Could I love 
The forests would re-echo with my song ; 
The trivial brook would hear it, and would tell 
The tale thereof to them that guard the seas." 
But Pan, the lover, press'd her to his breast. 
" If love were thine, O Pitys," he replied, 
" Thine eyes alone the secret might proclaim. 
But thou wouldst silent be. Though men may 

boast 
When love is theirs, true maids as stilly are 
As birds that wait the whispers of the dawn. 
Love's silence is than speech more eloquent. 
Thou art not wise, O Pitys ; on thy lips 
Grief has not laid her finger, and thy heart 
Is stranger still to doubt and weariness. 
Thou still art young ; to thee the universe 
A temple is of ivory and gold 
Where happy dreams still linger. Long ago. 
When first I piped upon the slanting hills 
And wonder'd at my music, I was vain 
And thought how I for evermore might sing 
[80] 



PAN AND PITYS 



While all grew old around me. But the trees 
Became each season fairer through the years, 
And naught could change the mountain's love- 
liness. 
While I ! On me the shadows now descend, 
And soon, too soon, my pipes must idle lie. 
And long ago I dream'd that one like thee 
With constant eyes and firm untroubled mouth 
Might be mine own ; that I, as night drew near, 
Might find one face that ever turn'd to mine 
Despite the hinting whispers. She and I, 
So dream'd I then, would hear the dusk's low 

call 
And morning's trumpets ; and the skies would 

flush 
The while we kiss'd beneath them and were glad. 
The woods should hear our laughter, and the 

pools 
The happy music when my pipes proclaim'd 
The hour of noon and silence ; she and I 
Were thus to live until the wind-blown leaves 
Might hide our marbled bodies from the world. 
And then in yon illumined drapery 
That swathes the world that was so very dear, 
With bright Orion and the Pleiades, 
And others made immortal, evermore 
The gods would place us, ever to be seen 
And ever sung by poets yet unborn. 
[81] 



IDYLLS OF GREECE 



A dream it was, O Pitys ; now I know 

The things our fancy paints may seldom be." 

NOW silent were the glades of evergreen, 
And silent were the lovers. All the air 
Was subtly fragrant with the languid sighs 
Of closing roses, thyme and heliotrope. 
Of violets and jasmin ; from the soil 
The scent ascended slowly to the gods, 
Reminding them of how the earth was fair 
And willing ever to do sacrifice. 
And they that gazed with unastonish'd eyes 
Upon their last creation, smiled, and turn'd 
To other orbs divinely glorious 
Ablaze amid the sky's blue tapestry. 
Across the pool, wherein the blinking stars 
Were faintly mirror'd, bats skimm'd to and fro, 
And tipp'd the waters with forbidding wing ; 
Amid the reeds the dull frog slowly croak'd 
His mournful protest, and through heavy eyes 
Beheld the shadows deepen. But the birds, 
That love not night, were dreaming in their 

nests 
Amid the grass, or where the leafy boughs 
With gentle lilt responded to the breeze. 
Beneath the oaks the pretty deer reclined, 
Unfearful of the Huntress ; for at night 
Diana's heart is soften'd, and the beasts 
[82] 



PAN AND PITYS 



May rest until her horns awaken them. 
These many years no mortal eye has seen 
The Pale One and her maidens ; but when falls 
The Night's soft purple o'er the woods of dream, 
And glinting stars from airy palaces 
Peep down in still content upon the world, 
She seeks the shadow'd places. There she lies 
On beds of firry fragrance, with her nymphs 
In rings of tempting loveliness around. 
And while the silent, lantern-bearing worm, 
The forest's watchman, in the stilly aisles 
Keeps lustrous watch, the gliding Hours may 

see 
The modest beauty with the yellow hair 
And eyes so chastely azure. Could we hear 
The moth's low whispers, as with ghostly wing 
It wakes the honeysuckle, we might learn 
Where hid she lies. But oh ! our ears are dull'd. 
And dimm'd the eyes that once fair things 

beheld. 
All's common now, for shatter'd is the dream 
That made life perfect when the air was fill'd 
With splendid presences, and constant song 
Fell from the heights about the heads of men. 
Trees are but trees, despite the mute appeal 
Of lissome arms that sway and lean to us ; 
The brook no longer calls us, and the wind 
The while it chants primeval symphonies 
[83] 



IDYLLS OF GREECE 



Or wild, weird songs of forest tragedy 

Is but the wind ; the baser things allure — 

The things that are ignoble, like ourselves. 

In other days a wiser race shall note 

The things we thought unworthy ; men shall 

hear 
The forest voices and the sea's lament, 
The thoughts the meadows utter while the stars 
Smile down in benediction, or the rain — 
The loving rain — composes hymns of peace 
Alike for them that toil or are at rest. 

THEN spoke grey Pan again, while Pitys 
lean'd 
Still closer to his bosom. " Overhead 
The stars are all a-tremble, and my heart 
Beats in my bosom like a captured bird. 
Sweeter to me the fragrance of thy hair 
Than all the wood's fair blossoms ; pale thy 

cheeks. 
But Love's red rose still lingers on thy mouth. 
And in thine eyes is longing. Dost thou hear 
The gods' faint whispers as they linger near, 
Unseen of thee, and tell of other loves. 
And lips that now are silent as the dust? 
Too well they know how little time we have 
For dreams and idle plannings ; therefore they 
Would bid thee turn those crimson lips to mine ; 
[84] 



PAN AND PITYS 



Would bid thee gaze forever in the eyes 

That bend o'er thine. Now speak, while yet the 

moon 
Has turn'd her envious glances from thy face. 
I love thee, Pitys. Say thou lovest me ! " 
But saying naught, she placed beneath his own 
Her lips, and kiss'd him. And her eyes were 

soft 
As round his neck she placed a scented arm 
And drew his grey head downward. " Pan," 

said she, 
So softly that the fond god scarcely heard, 
" I know not why, and yet I worship thee. 
These many months within this heart of mine 
A secret love has had its hiding-place. 
And thou art he who is my one desire. 
Thou art my adoration. Night by night 
I dream'd I saw thee piping, heard thy song. 
Or watch'd thee woo a nymph whose wanton eye 
Allured thine own. Then woke I, and was glad 
To find I had been dreaming. Or, perhaps, 
I saw thee charm Diana with thy pipe. 
And win her with thy stories of the gods 
Enslaved by mortal beauty. Then, dear Pan, 
I hated her, and knew how much I loved. 
And oft I fled to where the solitude 
Assuaged my wounded spirit, but thine eyes 
Pursued me there, thy music still I heard — 
[85] 



IDYLLS OF GREECE 



Thy voice, thy mocking laughter. And there 

stray'd, 
One golden dawn while yet the morning star 
Beheld me idly bathing in a pool, 
A witless shepherd to the water's edge 
Who fain had woo'd me, but I fled from him 
And left him there lamenting. And again 
He traced my tell-tale footprints in the grass, 
And woo'd me in the shadow. Fair was he ; 
For youth's bright glory crown'd his pallid 

brow, 
And all the time he stammer'd of his love 
It seem'd a harp was playing. Thee I loved, 
O dear, grey Pan ; and now he tells the stars 
In broken speech that maids are never kind." 
Then ceased the nymph ; and now the heavy 

moth 
Was strangely audible, as on its way 
To hidden feasts it vanish'd through the glade 
Unconscious of the lovers or their bliss. 
And though the night now compass'd them 

about 
Pan found her eyes and kiss'd them. " Let the 

past 
Be evermore forgotten," he replied ; 
" Love comes but once ; love me, and thou shalt 

learn 
They love the best that know how all must pass. 
[86] 



PAN AND PITYS 



This night beholds my wooing, when the dawn 
Shall cast its gold upon thee, birds shall sing 
The anthem of our nuptials. All the nymphs 
That guard our scented forests shall appear 
To bring thee to the altar, and the noon 
Shall see thee mine forever, O my love. 
Bid Phoebus haste and drive these shadows 

hence. 
That thou and I, with vine-leaves garlanded, 
Soon meet again where stands the ivied stone 
To say the vows and pour the sacred wine. 
Now go thou back to where thy bed of fern 
Awaits thy maiden beauty. On thine eyes 
Pale Dian pour her blessings ; be thy dreams 
Of grey old Pan who loves thee. Thou and I 
Shall have long nights for whispers ; days for 

deeds 
And lazy noons for music and for song. 
But e'er thou goest I will play for thee 
The Song of Peace, that on thy lidded eyes 
Soft Sleep may lay the magic of his hands 
And steep thee in enchantment." Slowly then 
Their arms were loosen'd ; and the while she 

stood 
Beside her lover, to his lips he placed 
The magic reed and woke it with his breath. 
But gently now he blew, as though afraid 
The sleeping fauns might waken, or from out 

[87] 



IDYLLS OF GREECE 



The forest's gloom wan phantom things ap- 
pear — 
Harpies and Furies and unhappy ghosts. 
For now the moon's pale face was almost hid 
By veils of cloud, and faint, quick puffs of wind 
Betoken'd storm. Had they but thought of it ; 
Had they but known ! But Pan play'd ever on 
With half-closed eyes, as though oblivious 
To aught except the liquid melody 
To which the trees were swaying. At his side 
Stood gentle Pitys, dreaming of the dawn 
And golden days to follow. Pan she saw. 
And nothing else ; and though Endymion, 
Or fair Adonis with his burnish'd hair 
And eyes wherein night's wondrous softness lay, 
Had tried to win her glances, she had turn'd 
Her eyes to him, her lover. Old and grey. 
She loved him, deem'd him perfect. In her 

heart 
His face alone was treasured ; in her ears 
His voice would ring forever. Thus it is, 
And thus it was, and thus it e'er shall be 
When hearts of maids are conquer'd; men may 

love. 
But constancy is woman's, and the star's. 
And still Pan play'd, and still the graceful trees 
Bent low their swaying branches. And at last, 
When all his love seem'd utter'd in a note 
[88] 



PAN AND PITYS 




That soar'd away upon the rising wind, 
Unknown to him, pale Pitys touch'd his hair 
And slipp'd away ; and when, his playing done. 
The grey god turn'd to where the nymph had 

stood, 
The gloom return'd his whisper, and his sigh. 



jUT never yet, since Earth's fair daugh- 
ters lured 

'The love of gods or shepherds, was a 
maid. 
So fair as she, whose eyes had fail'd to light 
A passion in another. Rivalry 
Love's pastime is, though rival lovers hate 
And kingdoms totter while a woman smiles. 
Who wooes, and fears no rival, never loves. 
The noble stag is jealous of his kind; 
The plumaged bird must win its chosen mate 
From gaily vested suitors ; and the woods 
Could tell of flowers that have their tragedies, 
And insect rivalry; And long before 
The gaze of Pan fell full on Pitys' face 
A god had seen and loved her, one whose ways 
Lay between earth and heaven, wild Boreas, 
Roughest of Winds, and fear'd from Pole to 
Pole. 

[89] 



IDYLLS OF GREECE 



Once only had he seen her, as she swung 
In merry mood amid an alder's boughs ; 
But, seeing her, he loved her, and forthwith 
Woo'd her with all the passion of a god 
And simulated ardour. In the night 
He came as comes the Zephyr, and his song 
*Was softer than the murmur of a harp 
Touch'd by a Dream's white fingers ; in the 

dawn 
His voice was like a trumpet ; but at noon 
The saddest flute was harsher than his voice, 
And then he thought to win her. But in vain 
This god had woo'd ; in vain he sang to her 
The splendors of the heavens and surging seas, 
Or told her of the mysteries of stars. 
" If thou wilt love me I can bear thee hence 
To where the gods are," he had said to her. 
" Zeus shalt thou see, the Father ; thou shalt 

hear 
The voice of him whose thunder is the fear 
Of hoary Neptune in his coral caves. 
And I will show thee Juno, at whose knee 
The silent Fates are seated. Thou shalt learn 
The last decrees that shape the ways of men, 
And bind the gods themselves. And if thou 

wilt 
I'll bear thee up to where white Venus sits 
Upon her throne of ivory and gold 

[90] 



PAN AND PITYS 



With soft, grey doves about her. Fair is she 

Beyond thy compreheasion, fairer far 

Than rosy dawns in lands of utter calm, 

Fairer than snow, or than the far-flung spray. 

All this is mine to show thee ; if thou wilt 

I'll bear thee hence to where the lions toss 

Their yellow manes in Libyan solitudes. 

No eyes have seen, save mine, the icy posts 

Beyond the frozen borders of the world; 

But thou shalt see the ice-wrack, hear the grind 

Of floe on floe, and ride unharm'd above 

The wastes of desolation and of snow. 

I'll bear thee forth, safe couch'd between my 

wings, 
From star to star ; bright Sirius shall tell 
The untold story of unnumber'd worlds ; 
Or thou shalt see huge constellations hurl'd 
From heaven's high paths. From heights 

Olympian 
I'll take thee, while strange music fills thine ears, 
To Proserpine's dim gardens ; thou shalt see 
Splendors and ghostly horrors. Thou and I 
Can leave all worlds behind us if thou wilt, 
And dwell apart where gods alone may come. 
Give me thy love ! The forest shall be thine. 
Sky, sun and moon, the everlasting stars. 
And all the Winds shall hail thee as their 



queen 



I " 



[91] 



IDYLLS OF GREECE 



But Pitys pass'd her tresses through her hands 
And s-hook her head. " Such things are naught 

to me," 
She answer'd, and was silent. And the god 
Had flown away in anger. But again 
He came, and sought to win her, when the night 
Lay odorous about her, and her blood 
Was warm with dreams of things that might 

have been. 
" Boreas, I, the oldest of the Winds," 
He whisper'd, and she waken'd. " Never now 
Sleep draws his velvet poppies o'er mine eyes, 
O heartless nymph," he cried. " Since first I 

saw 
Thy ruddy hair ablaze amid the green. 
And swiftly fleeing body, I have sigh'd 
Or storm'd to show my passion. Let me share 
Thy fragrant bed, or I no more shall sleep." 
But she had mock'd, and said : " I pity thee. 
But thou art ever restless. Not for thee 
A bed of fern a laurel bush beside. 
But such a couch as crimson'd clouds provide 
Amid the constellations. For thy mate 
The daughter of a goddess, one that wears 
Morn's star upon her forehead, and can meet 
Thy lips with all the ardor of the storm. 
But I, O Wind, am but a simple nymph. 
Whose pleasure is to track the brown deer down, 
[92] 



PAN AND PITYS 



Or watch the tulips open. I can sing, 
And weave the scented rushes into wreaths 
For idle shepherds if they tease me not. 
I care not much about the whirling stars ; 
They shine above me and they guide me home — 
Who seeks to see them closer? I have peep'd 
At pale Diana as she trod the woods, 
And once I saw white Venus ; but the gods 
Might close my eyes if I made brave to see 
The splendor of Olympus. One there is 
That somewhere waits thy coming. Pitys is 
No mate for thee. Then leave me, and forget 
My body's whiteness and my ruddy hair. 
My eyes that oft remind thee of the sea ; 
These things must pass, and love unstable is 
That's built on body's beauty." And the 

Wind 
Had sought to frighten Pitys ; he had swept 
From west and east the slowly-moving clouds, 
And made all space seem awful ; in the woods 
Old trees had bow'd before him, and his breath 
Had bent the tender sapling to the ground. 
But she had lain secure amid the fern. 
And thought of Pan. And though the Wind 

had sworn 
To win her love, and woo'd her day by day, 
She shook her head and idly pass'd her hair 
Between her fingers. And the anger'd god 
[93] 



IDYLLS OF GREECE 



Had come, had gone ; had woo'd and storm'd 

again, 
As lovers will when maidens prove unkind 
And life itself is in the one desired. 

FOR many nights the jealous god had 
watch'd 
The maiden while she slumber'd ; for the leaves 
Had whisper'd of a lover, and the stars 
Had smiled the while he sang her name to 

them. 
But no one knelt beside her fragrant bed 
Except the hopeless shepherd ; and the birds, 
When question'd by his Zephyrs in the dawn, 
Extoll'd her virtue and her constancy. 
But still he doubted, for his love was strong; 
And still he hated, for the leaves had said 
That she was for another, not for him. 
And now he knew. For he, the while he roam'd 
Beneath the sky, enraged, disconsolate 
And brooding o'er the fickleness of maids, 
Beheld old Pan asleep beside the oak, 
Beheld the pool, and her who swam therein 
Light as the foam, and whiter. He beheld 
The god awaken'd from his sleep, and heard 
His music and his wooing. Then he knew 
Why Pitys scorn'd his passion, why the stars 
Made mock of him who ever sang her name 
[94] 



PAN AND PITYS 



And made the Zephyrs praise her. And the 

while 
The lovers kiss'd and clung, and kiss'd again 
And whisper'd to each other, and forgot 
All time and danger in each other's arms, 
Boreas cursed her beauty, cursed grey Pan 
And cursed all things created; then he fled 
To where the woods were darkest, loneliest, 
And sought her path and there awaited her. 

BUT, all unconscious, Pitys hurried on 
Beneath the solemn cypress to the place 
Where lay her bed of freshly-gather'd fern. 
All cool and laurel-scented. With the dawn 
The little birds would sing and waken her 
And bid her call her sisters. These would come 
With rosy bodies and alluring hair 
And eyes a-gleam with mischief. They would 

chant, 
The while they slowly near'd her, hand in hand, 
Clothed in their own sufficient loveliness, 
The songs of Dawn and Bridal ; then would 

weave 
Sweet grasses in her tresses. And the bed 
Of fragrant fern where Sleep had watch'd by her 
Through star-lit nights, would cover'd be with 

sprays 
Of heliotrope and ivy. Then the nymphs, 
[95] 



IDYLLS OF GREECE 



With softer song and movements rythmical, 
Would lead her slowly upward from the dell 
Through glinting aisles and glades still wet 

with dew 
To where old Pan stood waiting. Dreaming 

thus 
She left the path behind her. Overhead 
It darker grew and darker, while the air 
Was hot and heavy, menacingly still.; 
And while she braved, with beating heart, the 

gloom 
And things that love the shadow, Boreas 
With love and fury tearing at his heart 
And hate of Pan to goad him, in her way 
Sprang suddenly and stopp'd her. " Now," he 

cried ; 
" Let Pan delight the shadows with his pipes 
And mumble love to other nymphs than thee ! 
By now thou art forgotten ; he has woo'd 
A thousand unsubstantial images 
Charm'd from the air by his own melody. 
But thou to me art still the loveliest ; 
And though I could have slain him at my will, 
He lives because I scorn, but fear him not. 
Mine art thou now. Now kiss me, or this night 
The lipless ghosts shall gibber in thine ears 
Their welcome to the lands of Proserpine." 
But she whom he address'd, with arms on breast 

[96] 



PAN AND PITYS 



And level brows, unfearing, answer'd him : 
" O Wind, I love thee not. Another maid 
May be more kind. Go seek thou in the woods. 
For nymphs are many, and a maid unloved 
Will surely answer when thou callest her. 
I love thee not. Thy face is naught to me ; 
Thy voice suggests no music, and my pulse 
Has never quicken'd when thou drewest near. 
Dawn's flush suggests thee not; the gentle 

Dusk 
Has never heard the whisper of thy name 
Tell the far star the yearning of my heart. 
I love thee not, O Wind. Now let me pass. 
Or on thy head the wrath of gods descend ! " 
But he dismay'd the silence of the woods 
With scornful laughter, long and terrible. 
" The gods and I are equals," he replied ; 
" So threaten not. For I am Boreas, 
Astrseus' son. If angrily I breathe. 
The forest bends before me. Who art thou 
To say thou wilt not love me.'' With the wings 
That bear me to the presence of the gods 
I strike but once, and level lies the oak 
That tower'd to the stars for centuries ; 
And thou art but a nymph, a butterfly 
That makes a day seem perfect, and is gone. 
I constant am. Pan wooes a thousand maids; 
His love is like his music, born to die." 

[97] 



IDYLLS OP GREECE 



" Thou, constant ! " Pitys answer'd. " In the 

dawn 
Thou blowest here ; at noon thou blowest there ; 
At night thy place is vacant. Who art thou 
To call another fickle? In the woods 
The trees and saplings fear thee ; on the seas 
Men dread thy changeful temper ; in the skies 
Diana veils her face for scorn of thee. 
A nymph am I, no goddess. But my song 
Has made the linnet listen, and at dusk 
The squirrel sits, unfearing, in my path, 
And fauns will lie beside me. Pan has said 
My voice is sweeter than the sweetest flute 
That wakes the hills in summer; he has said 
My lips are softer than the "velvet rose 
That languishes at even. Pan I love, 
Because to him I am no butterfly 
That makes a day seem perfect; thee I hate. 
Now let me pass before I cry for aid ! " 
But now he sprang upon her, mad with rage 
Because she would not heed him. " Once 

again," 
He mutter'd hoarsely, as he held her fast, 
" I bid thee love me, leaving hateful Pan. 
Still young art thou, and life should yet be 

sweet 
To one whose day is hardly yet begun. 
Come hence with me ; less old am I than Pan. 
[98] 



PAN AND PITYS 



The dawn shall find thee standing by the gates 

Whence issues all the glory ; thou and I 

Will follow splendor on its daily course 

And sleep where hides the sunset, ^ons hence, 

When all is over and our dream is done, 

Of thee and me unhappy men shall sing 

And envy us our kisses." But, again, 

She strove to keep him from her. *' Pan I love," 

She murmur'd faintly; " Pan alone I love; 

And lacking Pan I will most gladly die." 

" Then look thy last on life," the god replied. 

" Behold the stars, the gently-swaying trees. 

The little blooms that dream beneath thy feet. 

For, if thou wilt not kiss me as I ask. 

Be sure these trees no more shall greet thine 

eyes 
When morning gilds the heavens. Eterne the 

night 
In Proserpine's dim gardens. Kiss thou me ; 
And say that me thou lovest." And again 
She call'd on Pan, till all the sleeping woods 
Were almost waken'd; and the while she cried. 
The hateful god press'd tight his iron hand 
Upon the crimson bow that was her mouth. 
And held it there until she strove no more. 
And hating still, he hurl'd the tender corse 
Against a rock, and left it. Then the trees 
Sway'd tenderly above her, and the stars 

[99] 



IDYLLS OF GREECE 



Look'd down in utter pity from the skies 

At her whose dream was over. From the dusk 

A glow-worm came to light her ghost's slow steps, 

Down to the voiceless waters. For the trees 

Are quick with feeling in the greater things 

Like love and death ; there is no sympathy 

More touching than the sympathy of stars 

That watch yet cannot help us ; and the midge 

That drones its thin lament in human ears 

Reminds us of its wing'd relationship. 

In bye-gone years these things were understood, 

In bye-gone years, when man was innocent, 

He stood a little closer to the gods 

And, knowing less, was wiser then than now. 

YE would not bid me tell how Morning came 
In cool grey robes along that flower-strewn 
path 
And closed those eyes forever? Let them gaze, 
A little while upon the holy Night, 
Upon the gentle brotherhood of trees, 
Cowl'd moths and things of silence. In the 

woods 
Let Pan be ever waiting with his pipes 
Unconscious of the slaying of his love. 
In lands of dream wild ivy ever clings 
About uncrumbling altars ; in the glades 
The shy deer slumber, and the heliotrope 
[100] 



PAN AND PITYS 



Shall scent the dusk forever. Bide we there 
Along with shadow lest too soon we break 
The fond illusion. Pan shall pipe for us 
The tunes he play'd for Pitys ; he shall watch 
With slanting eyes the golden forest aisles 
And turn his ear to catch the first faint song 
That tells his darling's coming through the 

woods. 
A little while and we might even see 
The Zephyrs lift the poplars' silver'd leaves 
To hide her virgin beauty from the sun ; 
But now she lies in silent wistfulness, 
A thing to dream of, pale and consecrate, 
Amid the shadows, till the moon steps forth 
To kiss her once. Ah, let us leave her thus 
Amid the silent pity of the trees 
Until for us she is a memory 
Of something dear; of something that is sweet 
As half-remember'd music, or the sound 
Of cherish'd voices, still'd, but unforgot. 
Regret is vain ; all things must have an end. 
Or soon or late the laughter dies away, 
And man and maid are gather'd to the dusk 
Where nothing is but breathless quietude. 
Let Pan be waiting; things that might have 

been 
Enslave our fancy — for the dream is all! 



[101] 



PRAXIS AND NARCISSUS 




PRAXIS AND NARCISSUS 




^HAT is the thing most prized?" I 
ask'd the Night, 

The while along the highways of the 
skies 
The early stars lit dreamily their lamps 
Amid the pregnant silence. All alone 
I lay and mused of bye-gone tragedies, 
Of loves and ardent lovers ; and the hills 
Loom'd faintly in the distance. Not a breeze 
Assail'd the holy stillness ; not a bird 
Beat wing against the unillumined air 
Or thrill'd the pensive shadows. Then from out 
The scented dusk, wherein unseen of us 
She hides and sees through eyes compassionate 
The sleep that ends the iron toil of men, 
Night whisper'd : " Youth ; and then the dreams 
thereof." 

[ 105 ] 



IDYLLS OF GREECE 



ONCE on a time, in days when men still trod 
Earth's paths in breathless wonder, and the 

world 
Roll'd all a-glister through the firmament 
Where sat the gods and praised its loveliness, 
Amid the solemn woods of Attica 
A wearied nymph lay sleeping in the shade. 
For now it was the moment when the sun 
Stood highest in the azure, and his rays 
Pour'd hotly like a stream of molten gold 
On woods and hills alike, on plains and sea. 
The weighty cedars and the fragrant pines. 
The copper-color'd beeches and the oaks. 
And all the lesser trees were motionless 
In this one moment. Often they had sway'd 
Their arms in wild abandon, when the wind 
Set all the woods a-dancing to the hymns 
That made the satyrs joyous. Now they 

dream'd 
Amid the peace, the sunshine ; for the trees 
Remember much of forest tragedy 
And wondrous forest doings. They have heard 
The rain songs and the wind songs ; they have 

seen 
Their sisters slain by unrelenting storms, 
Or slaughter'd by the woodmen. Therefore 

they. 
Whose fragrant hearts are soft with sympathy, 
[106] 



PRAXIS AND NARCISSUS 

Whose whisp'ring leaves would tell us of their 

love, 
Can dream their dreams in noons of sultriness 
Or when the gloom of winter wraps them round. 
Within the glade, where now the sleeping maid 
Lay still, as if enchanted, nothing proved 
That this was not an unsubstantial dream 
Created but to vanish. Nothing stirr'd, 
Or broke the utter silence. In the dawn 
The birds had sung wild anthems ; then appear'd 
The gaudy host of wing'd ambassadors 
To courts of voiceless beauty, and the bee 
That sips and sings and leaves its love forlorn. 
And soon would come the undecided moth 
That loves the dusk ; then owls, whose hoots 

foretell 
The shuffling Midnight, cowl'd and passionless. 
But now the sunlight stream'd upon a glade 
Of quietude unbroken ; by the pools 
The dragon-flies were gather'd, and the fields 
Had lured the bee and thoughtless butterfly 
With clover feasts and fragrant eglantine. 
And soon there came from out the needled aisles 
Another nymph a-tiptoe, hesitant, 
With bended arm and finger on her lip, 
And head inclined to catch the faintest sound. 
About her form a wealth of glinting hair 
Fell veil-like, all a-shimmer ; for the sun 

[ 107] 



IDYLLS OF GREECE 



Delights in adding glory to the things 
Already fair and golden, as the moon 
Gives her chaste kisses to the things of night. 
Beloved was she of both, of sun and moon ; 
For she, in such a ring of laughing girls 
As, holding hands, step lightly round and round 
On flower-embroider'd meadows, had been call'd 
The loveliest, and worn upon her brows 
A crown of woven daisies. Softly now, 
From tree to tree and berried bush to bush, 
She glided like a shadow ; and at last, 
While yet the sun was high above the glade 
And everywhere was silence, in the shade 
Beneath the beech beheld the sleeping nymph. 
Then stood she still. But she that slept awoke 
Despite the other's caution. Sitting up, 
She saw her laughing sister. " Come," she 

cried, 
*' My fond and teasing Thya ! In my dreams 
I saw thee steal a-tiptoe through the woods. 
And wonder'd if to wake and hide from thee. 
Or linger here, would please thy mood the most. 
For though thou treadest lightly, like a Wind 
Above the graves of Autumn's gather'd leaves, 
I heard thy step, and woke to welcome thee 
And bid thee tell what thou hast heard or seen." 
Then Thya cross'd to where her sister lay. 
And knelt beside her. On her maidenhood 
[108] 



PRAXIS AND NARCISSUS 

The sun had smiled but sixteen happy years, 

While happiness abode within her eyes 

And made their blue delicious. She had bound 

Around her brows a creeper, scarlet-leaved. 

That lost itself amid her yellow hair 

Like crimson poppies in a field of com; 

And all the gentle loveliness of her 

Was sweet and fragrant like the woods at dawn. 

" I know by now each hiding place of thine, 

Beloved Praxis," she replied at last. 

When, kneeling in the shadow, she essay'd 

To fan away her sister's drowsiness. 

" I know the little hollow where the fern 

Conceals the startled rabbit ; I have seen 

The stalwart bough that bears thy added weight 

With all its ruddy apples ; and the pool 

With all the oaks around it, whereto comes 

At night the pale Narcissus, loveliest 

And loneliest of youths. Each haunt of thine 

I know by now, dear Praxis ; but to-day 

I found thee not in haunts of other times — 

The reason give, or I will fan no more ! " 

But Praxis grasp'd her sister's slender arm 

And drew her to her bosom. " Ask the wind," 

She answer'd softly as she kiss'd the child, 

" Why west it blows to-day, when yester-eve 

It bore its fragrant greeting to the east. 

The drift that flutters idly down the breeze 

[109] 



IDYLLS OF GREECE 



Goes here or there ; and I, to this cool spot 
Was led bj Chance, who led thee here to me. 
But tell me now the gossip of the woods ; 
What nymph has left the spotless sisterhood 
Of pitiless Diana? Who is she 
That's woo'd of Pan now Pitys is no more? 
What hast thou learnt of insect and of bird, 
And snow-poll'd dandelion? Little ears 
Have heard the strangest secrets ; Praxis waits, 
Who oft rewards thy stories with a kiss." 

THEN Thya told the pleasant chronicle 
Of woodland doings ; of the doe that 
mourn'd 
Diana's morning victim ; of the dove 
Discover'd as she sat upon her nest 
Unmindful of the peeper. Then she told 
How, ere the morn was golden, there had come 
To where she slept a shepherd, who had woo'd 
With all a shepherd's passion. " But," said 

she, 
" I told him, gentle Praxis, of the bee 
That loves and wooes the clover, and is gone; 
And then I fled, and he, pursuing me, 
Fell headlong in a pool, whereat I laugh'd. 
And then I met Dictynna, who, they say. 
Would disobey Diana, following 
A wild-eyed wooer ; but she fears the Queen, 

[ 110 ] 



PRAXIS AND NARCISSUS 

And meets her lover when the thrush is still. 
And her I fain had question'd, had I dared, 
What is this love that makes men's voices soft, 
And maids to blush like poppies. Knowest thou, 

dark-eyed Praxis ? " But the elder nymph 
Was playing now with Thya's golden hair, 
And shook her head demurely. " Naught I 

know," 
She answer'd softly, " save thy words are like 
The brook's sweet babble. Therefore tell me 

more." 

BUT Thya paused before she told again 
The things that seem'd to her of conse- 
quence. 
*' This love," she said, " I would I knew of it ; 
For I am weary of the butterfly, 
And weary of the squirrel. Ere I sleep 

1 hear the breezes whisper of delight 
Unknown to maids like me; and when the moon 
In yonder skies lies palely indolent, 

With stars about her, on my leafy bed 
She seems to gaze in pity. All alone 
I watch the shadows swaying in the gloom, 
And no one bids me wake to greet the dawn." 
" Thou sleepest well, my Thya," Praxis said, 
And stroked her sister's tresses. " Thank the 
gods 

[111] 



IDYLLS OF GREECE 



That dreams are thy companions. They that 

love 
Too often fear the coming of the morn, 
And watch the sunset with an aching heart. 
To thee the gods are gentle. Thou art yet 
The one the winds love; and the horned moon, 
Who numbers thee among the things of pearl, 
Beholds thy virgin beauty with delight. 
The hills are thine, the valley ; thou canst go 
Where'er thy wild feet lead thee. Free art 

thou. 
Because thou lovest not, and art not loved ; 
And being free art happy as the cloud 
That roams among the palaces of gods." 
But Thya shook her head. " Thou knowest 

not, 
O gentle Praxis of the shadow'd eyes. 
My wants and all my yearnings. Therefore I 
Will ask thee no more questions, but will tell 
How Pan appear'd and drove us twain apart. 
Around his head were grape and ivy leaves ; 
His mouth and beard were winey ; and his face 
Was redder than the sunset. Like a goat 
He danced before Dictynna, seeming grave 
The while he balanced on his cloven hoofs ; 
And then would laugh, when, tripp'd by tangled 

roots, 
He sprawl'd in drunken ease upon the grass. 
[112] 



PRAXIS AND NARCISSUS 

But when he rose his mood again had changed, 
And me he caught and kiss'd upon the mouth ; 
And fain had kiss'd again, but from his arms 
I slipp'd and fled, and found Dictynna gone. 
Then roam'd I through the slowly-warming 

woods ; 
For now the sun was high, and through the 

aisles 
His golden glances darted ; and the nymphs 
Had sought, like thee, a shady resting place. 
But when at last I near'd thy favor'd pool 
That smiles amid its nodding daffodils, 
I heard the sound of weeping. From a bush 
Of crimson rhododendron, bosom-high, 
Dark-leaf'd and like a thicket, then I peer'd 
And saw — whom guessest thou.'' Dictynna.'* 

Nay, 
Sweet Echo ! And — I wish'd myself away. 
For, after thee, dear sister. Echo is 
The one I think I most would like to be. 
I often play that I have dove-grey eyes 
And hair like hers, so silken, and as brown 
As polish'd chestnuts. Once she smiled at me; 
And ever since I watch her from afar. 
As from afar a star that loves the moon 
May watch a thing so perfect, and be glad. 
They say she loves. They say these many 

months 

[113] 



IDYLLS OF GREECE 



She shuns the sound of laughter, and alone 

Roams here and there among the silent trees, 

But never tells her secret. Fain had I 

Crept close and said : ' Sweet Echo, it is I, 

Thy friend, the little Thya. Tell to me 

The cause of all thy sorrow. Grief that's told 

Is grief divided, and the lighter made.' 

Perhaps Diana could have solaced her. 

Or thou, dear Praxis ; but my years are few. 

And I might wound while meaning to be kind. 

And so I blew a kiss to where she lay. 

And crept away as softly as I came. 

Now all the woods seem sadder than at dawn. 

And I am most unhappy." Then no more 

She spoke, but laid her gold-encircled head 

Upon her sister's bosom. Thus at last 

The busy brook that gossips through the woods 

And patient meads is silenced ; finding peace 

When gather'd to the comprehending sea 

Or to the sky's unmarr'd serenity. 

BUT now the sun beheld his rested love 
With sidelong glances, and the woods again 
Became a temple, where the gather'd birds — 
The thrush, the wren, the linnet, and the dove — 
Piped softer songs than human melodist 
E'er chanted in the sunshine ; and afar 
The risen lark above the scented fields 
[114] 



PRAXIS AND NARCISSUS 

Trill'd silv'ry benediction. Then were heard 
The distant horns that told the wide-eyed deer 
Diana had awaken'd, and would soon 
With hounds and laughing maidens give them 

chase. 
And now the nymphs made ready to depart. 
" I tend Diana till the moon steps forth," 
Said Praxis to her sister. " Go thou now, 
My little Thya, and forget thy care 
Amid the forest's beauty. Weave for me 
A wreath of wild, sweet roses, and to-night 
I'll wear it while I tell thee of the sea, 
Where mermen dwell in caves of gleaming pearl. 
Now smilest thou already ! With a kiss 
I send thee forth, my sister. Hear the horns 
Wind louder now and nearer! I must haste 
And meet the forest's Mistress ; but To-night 
Will come at last, an^ thou shalt kiss me back 
And tell me of my promise ! Thus I press 
My little Thya, who the gentlest is 
Of all the gentle nymphs in Attica." 



J^^^UT Echo still sat weeping by the pool, 
H^amDisconsolate and hopeless. Far apart 
'^^^''"^From all her laughing sisters she re- 

main'd. 
As though an outcast, lovely yet despised. 
[115] 



IDYLLS OF GREECE 



For many years the clear-voiced leader she 
Of nymphs whose singing usher'd in the Day 
Or told the Night's advancemwit. She had 

sung, 
To please great Zeus, of things the wood-folk do 
When silly shepherds woo them. Fairest she 
Of all fair nymphs ; but now, how sad the lot 
Of her whom he had f avor'd, and had loved ! 
That self-same morn, while yet the dew lay cool 
Upon the ferns' chaste beauty, she had spied 
Immortal Zeus asleep beside a nymph, 
Their arms enmesh'd together. On his breast 
Her face lay hid, and all the white of her 
Was veil'd beneath his purple. Thus they slept, 
Yet sigh'd and call'd each other to return 
From lands of sleep, to whisper and to kiss 
And tell their dreams together while they might. 
For ye that love know well how pitiless 
Is Time, how unrelenting. While ye rest 
'Twixt kiss and kiss, and while with heavy lids 
Ye wait endearment's coining of the word 
That proves undying passion, Time moves on. 
And nevermore are ye what once ye were. 
To-day is yours ; the night is yours in part — 
Sleep envies ye your kisses and your sighs. 
To-morrow? Ah ! What word, excepting Death, 
So sad is as To-morrow? Say it not. 
Who counts upon To-morrow grasps the wind. 

[116] 



' PRAXIS AND NARCISSUS 

AND while they slept, and while their lips 
still moved 
Above the words their ears no more might hear, 
Pale Echo watch'd the twain, and ask'd herself 
Who she might be that from Olympus drew 
The gods' dread king, and charm'd him with a 

kiss. 
Then stepp'd she close to where they sighing 

lay, 
And lightly, as the wind may lift a leaf 
That hides the gauzy insect from the sun, 
She raised the purple mantle ; and the face 
That rested there so fair was, yet so sad, 
She drew away ashamed, yet envious. 
And while the nymphs were group'd around the 

pool 
Wherein they bathed each morning, she had 

told 
This secret thing, and all the nymphs had 

laugh'd 
Until on high Olympus Juno heard 
Above the breathless silence of the dawn. 
And, bending, she had listen'd. One by one 
The nymphs re-told the story, till her brow 
Was anger-lined and awful ; then she bade 
The thunders roar her coming, and the while 
The bright air quiver'd and the birds forsook 
Their nests in utter terror, she appear'd 

[in] 



IDYLLS OF GREECE 



Amid the nymphs and stared them cold as stone. 
And one by one they drew themselves away 
From hapless Echo, who was kneeling now 
With cover'd face among the daffodils. 
Then Juno spoke, the cold and pitiless, 
Unloved of Zeus and fear'd of all the gods 
On bright Olympus ; and her voice was like 
The wind that drives with angry hiss the spray 
From seas of writhing turmoil. " Thou hast 

seen 
The hateful thing, the deed of shame," she 

said, 
And stretch'd her hand above pale Echo's head ; 
" And, minding not mine honor, thou hast told 
Winds, trees and birds, and mocking nymphs 

thereof, 
That they who sit by mighty Zeus may laugh, 
And men deride the weakness of a god. 
This having seen and evermore forgot 
I might have made thee goddess, lifted thee 
To sit with us in splendor ; now thou art 
Abhorr'd of me, and loved no more of Zeus. 
Wherefore I raise my hands above thy head 
And take from thee sweet speech, sweet speech 

that is 
Illusive Music's sister. Nevermore 
Thy tongue shall trill the love-song; nevermore 
Thy lips shall form the unforgotten words 
[118] 



PRAXIS AND NARCISSUS 

Of whisper'd love at twilight. Shouldst thou 

wed, 
Thy babe shall miss an answer to its coo, 
Nor shalt thou ever croon its slumber song. 
But lest with utter silence there should come 
Forgetfulness of sorrow, thou shalt be 
A mirror for men's voices, casting back 
The pleasant sound although thyself unseen. 
Now go thou forth, false Echo. Till the winds 
And singing sea be silenced, and the stars 
No longer burn above thee, wander thou. 
That men may learn the enmity of gods 
To them that dare reveal their mysteries." 
Thus spoke the anger'd goddess. And the 

clouds 
Descended slowly till they cover'd her 
And hid her from the glances of the nymphs ; 
Then rose she up in silence, solemnly, 
Above the laurels, pines, and pass'd away 
Amid the blue to brood upon her throne 
And shun the eyes of them that mock'd at her. 
Then, one by one, the nymphs forsook the pool 
And left among the flowers that pitied her 
The silent Echo ; saying naught they tum'd. 
And saying naught they slowly disappear'd, 
As turn the favor'd from the downcast thing 
And shun the hopeless and unfortunate. 

[119] 



roYLLS OF GREECE 



THUS Thya found her, and had left her 
there, 
Alone, with sorrow for companionship. 
But while she wept, she dream'd that one would 

come 
To comfort her when once the nymphs had told 
The woods of her misfortune. In her heart 
Hope linger'd still — fond Hope, that ever bides 
Though Night dismays the troubled soul of 

men ; 
And so she dream'd, and dreaming seem'd to feel 
Compassion's fingers laid upon her brows. 
For many months the hapless nymph had loved 
The shy Narcissus, and had follow'd him 
On tangled paths where'er his footsteps led ; 
But ever had the youth eluded her. 
Or treated her advances with disdain. 
For though all nymphs had ever dream'd of him, 
And Venus, the Immortal, call'd him fair, 
Narcissus eyed them coldly, finding not 
In aught that sigh'd and whisper'd when he 

pass'd 
The charm that binds a lover to his maid. 
Some said he woo'd a nymph who loved him not, 
And others call'd him enemy to love ; 
And said that he, on noons of lassitude, 
Would sit beside some sky-reflecting pool 
To watch his own fair features. This he did ; 
[ 120] 



PRAXIS AND NARCISSUS 

But saw the while the beauty of the sky ; 
Or thought of one, a sister, who was dead. 
Or fleeting clouds above him ; asking them 
Why he was fetter'd while the bird was free. 
And why the gods had fashion'd him at all. 
And while the nymphs had slowly drawn away 
Beguiled, perhaps, by shepherds or a god, 
Two loved the youth most fondly ; Echo, one. 
And — Praxis, though none knew it, leastwise she 
Whose love must now be evermore untold. 
And Echo now felt sure that to his eyes 
Would well the tears of pity when he saw 
Her adoration, now made doubly mute. 
But naught she knew of youth, the pitiless, 
And naught of love ; for love is like the rain 
That comes unbidden from the grieving skies 
When earth is parch'd and weary. On the weed 
It falls, as on the rose ; and nourishes 
The meadow and the wilderness alike. 
But who has bade it fall to suit his whim. 
And who has made Love minister to him ? 
So Echo sigh'd, and waited by the pool. 
Por well she knew that he whom she desired 
Would come that way to rest a while and dream, 
And bathe his body's beauty. In the woods 
No spot there was so shelter'd ; none so dear 
To stricken stag, that drank, the while it gazed 
Upon its soft, reflected counterfeit, 

[m] 



IDYLLS OF GREECE 



And wonder'd, ere it crept away to death, 
How aught could wound a thing so innocent. 
There came as well the wide-eyed, anxious doe 
Beside its faun, alert to ev'ry sound 
That hinted danger ; and the startled hare 
There quench'd its thirst and vanish'd like a 

monk 
Amid the cloistral silence of the trees. 

AND while amid the upright daffodils 
And scented dusk pale Echo stood and 
dream'd. 
From out the forest's darkness he appear'd — 
The weary-eyed Narcissus. White his limbs 
As coldest coral that in sunless caves 
Lies hid beneath the blossoms of the sea. 
About his brows was bound an ivy wreath, 
Whose clinging leaves confined such ebon locks 
As Sleep may shake above a drowsy child 
The while he wooes it to untroubled dreams. 
And suddenly she saw him, and arose 
And stood abash'd before him. Ere he came 
She told herself that she, with outstretch'd arms, 
Would face him kneeling; that her eyes might 

plead 
The while her lips were silent ; now, dismay'd. 
She stood before him like a dazzled moth 
Before a sudden glory. And the thought 
[122] 



PRAXIS AND NARCISSUS 

Of utter dumbness made her weep again 
And hide her face behind her trembling hands. 
But he that stood and watch'd her, like a god 
In wondrous calm and beauty, knew too well 
Who thus had hid her features. " Thou," he 

cried, 
" Art she on whom the steadfast stars shall gaze 
In soft compassion. Echo is thy name ; 
Thy fault, the telling of the loves of Zeus ; 
And she who hates thee Juno is, who sits 
Beside him on Olympus. Even now 
The nymphs have told thy sorrow, and the trees 
Are bow'd above the soil for love of thee. 
Echo art thou, of whom strange men shall sing 
When we have pass'd to where the shadows bide 
And Love itself is voiceless." Slowly then 
She bared her face's beauty, and outheld 
Her arms to him whose voice was as the wind 
On morns of blue and silver. Silent now 
She stood before him, and the gods were touch'd 
To see the mute appeal upon her lips 
And all the unvoiced yearning of her arms. 
But he whom she would win was silent, too. 
He came no nearer ; and, although his eyes 
Were moist with pity, yet he loved her not. 
And answer'd not, until from out the glow 
A pigeon flutter'd, and upon the snow 
Of Echo's shoulder found a resting place. 
[ 123] 



IDYLLS OF GREECE 



" Our Venus loves thee, Echo," he began ; 
" Despite thy fault, the Queen is merciful 
And braves the wrath of Juno and of Zeus. 
She sends thee now her gentle messenger 
To bid thee hope. Who knows but one may 
come 

To ask thy love " But suddenly she turn'd, 

And with a sigh as awful as a stab, 

So sharp, so short it was, she turn'd and fled, 

And left Narcissus standing there, amazed. 

AND well she knew that day was done for 
her; 
That nevermore the glances of the sun 
Might warm her cheeks, or Zephyrs in the mom 
Be wanton with her tresses. Never once 
She linger'd 'neath the beeches, or essay'd 
To hear pursuing foot-falls through the fern; 
But sped, by shaded paths unfrequented. 
Beyond the borderline of Attica, 
To other woods wherein no memories 
Might make the day more tragic than the night. 
And there grew old. And shepherds told the 

tale 
How oft they saw, the while their woolly flocks 
Were grazing near the woodlands, one who 

seem'd 
Less nymph than fleeing spirit. Never yet 
[124] 



PRAXIS AND NARCISSUS 

Was satyr seen beside her. All alone, 

Save for the fauns that sometimes follow'd her, 

She came and went, but often gazed at them 

With eyes that seem'd unutterably sad. 

And this the shepherds noted ; that when came 

To these same woods Diana and her maids. 

Or wand'ring Pan behind his fitful pipes. 

The nymph was seen no longer. Where she hid 

No shepherd knew ; and one who watch'd the 

woods 
From noon until the hopeless moon appear'd, 
And through the dark until Morn's crimson 

torch 
Enflamed the East, had seen no sign of her. 
But when no more the silv'ry voices broke 
The forest's soft solemnity, again 
The simple shepherds, as they watch'd their 

sheep. 
Beheld afar the ever-silent nymph. 
And once, when somewhat nearer she had come 
To where they idled, one arose and sang 
A song that throbb'd with passion, such a song 
As sing the swains when love is yet to win 
And skies are bright with splendid presences. 
And lo ! before the tear-compelling sound 
Had left the lips of him that utter'd it, 
And while the glow still burn'd upon his face, 
A voice was heard in answer, like a sigh 
[ 125] 



IDYLLS OF GREECE 



Of troubled winds, when down the aisles of Time 
Love's song reminds of things that might have 

been. 
And they that heard were startled; and again 
When one had shock'd the fragrant silences 
With one clear call of wonder, she replied 
With faint precision. Then the shepherds knew 
That this was Echo, whom the gods made mute 
Till human voice might rouse her. And again 
On nights of peace, or when their hearts were 

fill'd 
With all the golden joyousness of morn, 
They call'd her as the shepherd calls to-day. 
And, wooingly, she answer'd from afar. 
For though the gods be obdurate and stern, 
And merciless to them that anger them. 
Compassion warms the hearts of humble men ; 
Their pity proves the virtue of the poor. 



B 



OW light was slowly waning in the west. 
And Evening, in her robes of lavender, 
^One star upon her brow, stepp'd from 
the skies 
And laid upon the forests and the hills 
Cool hands of benediction. One by one 
The cowslips closed, as if afraid to see 
[126] 



PRAXIS AND NARCISSUS 

Night's sombre tragedies ; and soon the woods 
Were still and silent save when through the dusk 
The ebon bat skimm'd swiftly, or the dove 
Coo'd from its high and leafy hermitage. 
Beneath the trees the deer had laid them down, 
Their shy calls answer'd by their constant mates. 
Scarce seen upon the needles of the pines 
They rested now, and gazed with lustrous eyes 
Of soft content upon the purpling glades ; 
Or sometimes moved to where the cooler fern 
Was soft and fragrant, and awaited there 
Night with her silver mirror, and the stars. 
It was the hour of peace. Along the hills 
The sombre shades advanced, dislodging thence 
The glow that linger'd on the stony crests 
Like love upon the foreheads of the old; 
But o'er the lowly meadows, where the stream 
Murmur'd its song and hurried to the sea. 
The fleecy mist was falling like a veil 
To hide each petal'd beauty till the dawn. 
And over all the gods sat silently. 
Watching the world through heavy eyes of 

dream. 
Magnificently solemn. They beheld 
Forest and field and gently rising hill. 
Joying therein in ways unknown to us 
Who find more beauty in a painted face 
Than in the wholesome features of the world. 

[127] 



IDYLLS OF GREECE 



And as they gazed, Apollo play'd for them 
Hymns of the dusk, low-noted vagaries 
Suggesting peace and quiet. On his knee 
He knelt by her whose glances swell the seeds 
And tint the blossoms, Ceres, she whom men 
Have call'd the fair Earth Mother; and her 

eyes 
Were softer than his music, soft as is 
The mother's gaze when first she sees her babe 
With wonder yet about it. Now she saw 
The patient cattle in the drowsy fields, 
The sheep within the sheepfold, and the hut 
Wherein the happy shepherd and his mate 
Whisper'd above the embers. Woods and plains 
And mountains lay beneath her; and the while 
Apollo touch'd his vibrant instrument 
And, one by one, allured the modest stars 
From where they waited whisp'ring, she beheld 
The gentle-eyed and velvet-sandal'd Dusk 
Enswathe the world in her benign caress. 

THE little Thya was no sooner hid 
When from the shadow of the ancient beech 
Praxis arose, now rested and alert. 
And left the glade wherein now softly gleam'd 
The setting sun. As pass before our eyes 
Our noiseless dreams and leave no mark behind 
Of fleeing feet, so pass'd she through the aisks, 
[128] 



PRAXIS AND NARCISSUS 

Light as a moth. Rememb'ring now where 

stood 
An ancient altar, grey and ivy-deck'd, 
Where men to Venus sacrifices made, 
She hasten'd there, and, kneeling, laid thereon 
A tress of hair that gleam'd like fine-spun gold 
Touch'd by Apollo's fingers. " Take," cried 

she. 
And slowly lifted to the heights serene 
Her arms' appealing, column'd loveliness, 
" O take, bright Goddess, what I prize the most. 
And grant me love ! Each night I dream of 

one 
Whose beauty is my anguish ; and at dawn 
Aurora's glow reminds me of his hair. 
Throughout the day his face upon the air 
In softest tints is painted, and at night 
It trembles through the darkness like a flame. 
These many months I tread, disconsolate, 
The paths whereon I once danced joyously, 
Heedless the while of Eros ; now no more 
The winds suggest the melodies of Spring 
Or set my pulses throbbing. All alone 
I wander in my whiteness, and my sighs 
Have won compassion from the mocking fauns 
And made the iris watch me as I pass." 
Then paused she, and, where trembled still the 

tress 

[129] 



IDYLLS OF GREECE 



Of sever'd hair, all golden, placed her hands ; 
Then upward gazed, and listen'd. But the air 
Hung silently about her. If she heard, 
The Goddess made no answer; sent no sign 
By dove or winged Zephyr down the blue 
To her that knelt in maiden wistfulness 
And waited, watch'd and wonder'd. And again 
The golden peace was shatter'd by her voice. 
And once again the beeches heard her sigh- 
But now it seem'd she murmur'd to herself 
And not to Venus ; and her eyes no more 
Sought the bright blue above her, but beheld 
The paler beauties starr'd upon the soil, 
And there found comfort. " Fair, so fair is he," 
She said to them, and sigh'd ; then spoke again ; 
" For he is one on whom the Morning's glow 
Descended at his birth, and made his face 
Bright with a golden promise. With the things 
Of dream his beauty changes ; for he is 
No splendid god that sits unheeding Time 
Above the world in glinting solitudes, 
But mortal, and the envied thing of Death. 
Therefore is he the fairer ; therefore he, 
With shadow'd eyes expectant of a grief, 
And conscious of the hopelessness of life, 
Is sad as ye, sweet flowers, that must depart 
So soon, so soon, from all ye make so fair. 
Often, alone, I see him stray away 

[ 130 ] 



PRAXIS AND NARCISSUS 

Where only shadows linger, where the pine 
Is still and uncomplaining ; on his brow 
Is Grief enthroned, and Melancholy lays 
Her heavy hand upon his joyless lips. 
A sister once could lead his careless steps 
To where the sunbeams beckon'd; but herself 
Now dwells among the shadows, and her feet 
Are placed to greyer ways than we may know. 
And now he shuns all sweet companionship 
Of nymphs and fauns, and shepherds idle-eyed; 
He wanders lonely as a homeless Wind 
From glade to glade and pool to dreamy pool, 
And asks of no one comfort, seeks not love." 
And then bethought the nymph again of Her 
To whom all lovers pray, whose rosy ears 
Have heard all joy and all unhappiness 
Since first she made Love's mystery her own. 
And once again she raised white arms to her. 
" O Venus, crown'd and radiant, look thou down 
On one who is most desolate," she cried ; 
" All that is mine is given me by thee — 
Passion and youth and passing loveliness ; 
Yet love's withheld, and lacking love I fain 
Would give thee back thy gifts, and gladly 

die. 
I love Narcissus ! But he looks at me 
As though I were a lily, cool'd by dews. 
And all unconscious of the bee's intent. 
[131] 



IDYLLS OF GREECE 



But thou hast loved ! About thee arms have 

twined 
And crush'd thee with a pain that seem'd most 

sweet ; 
Above thine own have smiled a lover's lips 
That droop'd with thine ; thy throat has felt the 

kiss 
That trembled through thy being like the glow 
That wakes the trees in wooing days of Spring. 
Now help thou me, white Wonder of the Waves, 
Venus, whom gods delight in ! Hear a nymph 
Who loves thee well ; who dreams as thou hast 

dream'd ; 
Who yearns for one most hopeless, one who is 
Illusive as the shadow on a pool. 
Oh, give to me Narcissus, whom I love ! 
Then, till I wander downward to the dark. 
Where in the end all fairest things abide. 
Whence Love is banish'd, and desire thereof. 
By morn and night my praise shall rise to thee 
Reminding thee of joys that were thine own." 

BUT though she waited till the ringdove 
coo'd 
Its single note serene, thus heralding 
The dusk's advance, the Goddess gave no sign 
That she had heard ; no music fill'd the air 
With soft insistence and a hint of love, 
[132] 



PRAXIS AND NARCISSUS 

As when low horns are tremulously blown 
From hidden heights above white seas of mist. 
Then Praxis knelt no longer, but arose 
Like one on whom a world weighs heavily 
And stumbled through the forest. On and on 
She went unseeing, and unseen of aught 
Except the wakeful beeches. For the nymphs 
Were gather'd now where curl'd the heavy fern, 
In hiding from the satyrs ; and the birds 
Gave little heed to things that were of earth. 
From glade to glade she pass'd, from dell to dell. 
Wishing the Night were come, that smiling 

Sleep 
Might touch her with his wand. For Sleep was 

then, 
As even now, benign and merciful ; 
Hushing the sigh upon the griever's lips 
And splendoring the dark with wondrous 

dreams. 
Thus, unawares, she wander'd to the pool 
Where linger'd yet Narcissus ; and before 
Her gleaming feet could haste her through the 

gloom 
She look'd and saw him, saw how sad he was, 
And, loving him, was drawn to where he sigh'd. 
And ere he knew it, she had knelt by him 
Amid the whisp'ring sedges. And because 
Her face was pale as Sorrow's, and as still, 
[ 133] 



IDYLLS OF GREECE 



Narcissus fear'd her not, but laid his hand 

Most lightly on her hair and spoke to her. 

" Who, save myself, thus loves the haunted dusk, 

And walks in utter loneliness ? " he ask'd. 

" A nymph thou art, and one that should be hid 

Beside thy sisters ere the shadows fill 

The darksome woods ; ere Night, with heavy lids, 

Seeks bright Apollo's footsteps. None may see 

Such mysteries, and flourish ; even now 

The modest blooms have closed their pretty 

eyes. 
And in their nests morn's trilling choristers 
Hide heads beneath the shelter of their wings. 
Upon the grass Night's tears already fall, 
Aad soon she will be with us ; who art thou 
So white and fair, and yet so unafraid .? " 
Then answer'd him the nymph, and look'd away 
To where the waters darken'd : " Praxis, I, 
Whose love, though true, is most unfortunate ; 
Therefore I wander through the woods at dusk. 
Nor fear the Night, whose eyes have seen much 

grief ; 
Whose melancholy lips have never told 
Her secret sorrow or her cherish'd dream." 
" Thou art too young to tell of hopeless love," 
Narcissus answer'd. " Thou art beautiful, 
And who would turn from beauty save the blind.'* 
Thy silken hair is like a golden net 
[134] 



PRAXIS AND NARCISSUS 

To tangle hearts, and he that scorns to-day 
May beg to-morrow mercy at thy hands. 
And if not he, another; for the world 
Is warm with lovers as the sky with stars." 
But Praxis sigh'd. " I love the sun," she 

said ; 
" And while the stars be many, he is one." 
" And who is he whose eyes alone can light 
Thy destined path ? " the youth ask'd tenderly. 
And press'd her pale face upward with his hand. 
" Is he a god grown weary of the heights, 
And charm'd by Earth's eterne impermanence? 
A satyr .f* Or a shepherd with his pipes 
And heritage of consecrated dreams .'' 
Or lovest thou a shadow, a desire, 
A thing of heart's own making, such as lures 
Too oft the fancy of a simple maid? " 
And while his eyes sought hers, and while his 

hand 
Still touch'd her throat's warm whiteness, she 

replied. 
As one may speak who stands before a shrine: 
*' Thou askest, who my love art. Thou art he," 

THEN look'd the nymph away, and paler 
grew 
Her cheeks erst red as roses ; for the hand 
That almost touch'd her bosom ere she spoke 
[135] 



IDYLLS OF GREECE 



Was now withdrawn, and chiller seem'd the 

glade 
Than Melancholy's sunken, shadow'd lair. 
And while her gaze was fix'd upon the pool 
Narcissus watch'd the glow that was her hair ; 
And when he spoke his voice was like the voice 
Of one long dead, most sorrowful, yet sweet 
With memories of unforgotten joys. 
" Nay, nay ! " he said, " Oh ! tell me not thou 

lov'st ; 
For love and I are strangers. Thou art young ; 
And hid within the darkness there is one 
With whom the heights of glory thou shalt tread 
When Destiny so wills it, not before. 
First love is often dream love ; thou shalt wake. 
When steps this other from the mists of dawn 
To bid thee follow where the trumpets call, 
And place thy hand in his hand, unafraid. 
For me the shadow, and for thee the light. 
For I am one whose fate it is to be 
Enroll'd among the lonely, with the cloud. 
The mist and wand'ring planet. I have sought 
This thing call'd love, O Praxis ; but for me 
Another fate was long ago decreed. 
No answ'ring flash awaits the tender glance 
Of eyes that dream in mine ; upon my lips 
No lips may dwell, or kiss be chastely placed. 
How oft I see the shepherd striding home, 

[136] 



PRAXIS AND NARCISSUS 

His love beside him ; in his arms he holds 
The boy that seems more god-like than the best 
That sits on high Olympus ; but for me 
The dream is done, and evermore I hide 
Where stilly pools reflect the leafy peace." 
" Then life is over," wearily she said ; 
" So oft I saw thee in the hush of dawn 
Beside thy lovely sister. On thy breast 
Her head reclined, and thus ye watch'd the glow 
Suffuse the skies above ye. From afar, 
Above the deeper music of the woods, 
I heard thy voice when, singing in the dusk. 
Ye wander'd home. Ah, thou wert happy then, 
But ne'er have I known laughter or delight." 
" And now," Narcissus answer'd, " thou and I 
Are one in sorrow. For the maiden sleeps 
In yonder grove, where never now a bird 
Shall trill its song above the asphodel 
And make her spirit listen ; she is one 
With silent ghosts in shadow'd underlands, 
Nor e'er may see the pleasant sun again." 
He paused, and she beside him said no word. 
But watch'd the pool with dimm'd, unseeing 

eyes, 
Forgetful not of hope that once was hers 
And now was hers no longer. Thus at last 
Are cherish'd things remember'd ; thus at last, 
When all is lost, all over, and the scheme 
[137] 



IDYLLS OF GREECE 



We dream'd of most is shatter'd, from the Past 
Old hopes creep forth, old vows, and memories 
Of sighs that stab like daggers to the soul. 

WHEN Praxis spoke, her sorrow seem'd 
forgot. 
For even then, in days of wonderment. 
And dream and love, and sweet desire thereof, 
Life's burdens lay on women heaviest. 
And women smiled despite a breaking heart. 
" In yonder gardens she will wait," she said, 
" For thee, O pale Narcissus, There is peace 
Where now she is, in solemn lands of mist 
Among grey ghosts whose lips no favors ask. 
Things fair are made more beautiful by Death, 
And now with gentle Proserpine she rests. 
To whom, perhaps, she sings of golden dawns 
And even's hush'd and unforgotten joys. 
The wind's caress, the rain's insistent plea. 
The tree's abandon'd dancing — these to her 
Were things to find delight in ; now she tells 
The Queen whose eyes are greyer than her world 
Her innocent and cherish'd memories. 
And thou and I, Narcissus, shall behold. 
Or soon or late, the loveliness again 
That smiled upon earth's beauty. She shall be 
Thy sister still; but I — Ah, lest I go 
To that dim place where now she waits for thee 
[ 138] 



PRAXIS AND NARCISSUS 

Ere thou art call'd, I beg thee kiss me once, 
That there may be from thee to her a gift 
To make her eyes flame welcome, even there." 
Then, bending down, he kiss'd her, as the moon 
May lay its cold and passionless caress 
Upon the thing that loves it ; and the while 
He look'd away to think what words might 

soothe 
The maiden's grief, and make her brave again, 
The woods had won her with their lure of peace. 



^^^^OW Night, for one swift second, wav'- 

||Kiy||Mring stood 

•^^^^ Above the peaceful forest, looking down 
With eyes of still compassion on the world, 
Most beautiful in slumber. Fain had she 
Bade Time delay her eastward hurrying 
That men might dream the longer, live the while 
In bliss most sweet because most innocent; 
And tread the ways whereon no shadow falls 
To hint the dread To-morrow. But, alas. 
Time drives the Night before him ; and the Day 
Obeys the silent order of his eyes. 
As must the frailest leaf that curls and falls, 
And ever mourns a perish'd loveliness. 
One second thus she linger'd, knowing well 
[139] 



IDYLLS OF GREECE 



How idle is a sorrow unassuaged, 
How very bitter, yet how very sweet. 
And while the pool grew bright with many stars 
Narcissus crouch'd beside it. Did he think 
Of Echo, or of Praxis.? On his heart 
One face alone was graven, one that paled 
All gather'd beauties in the underworld, 
And made the sapless blossoms of the gloom 
Seem sad and wither'd things. And, gazing 

now 
Upon the listless waters, motionless 
As lies an idle mirror, and as cold. 
He saw therein, beneath his own, a face 
So like to hers that he all else forgot : 
" O voiceless now forever ! " he exclaim'd, 
And yearn'd above the vision ; " Thou whom 

Death 
Beheld amid the clover and the corn 
And envied Day his fleeting right in thee ! 
Chill seem the woods without thee. Oh! that 

thou 
Couldst step with eyes of question from the 

dusk, 
As steps the flaming tulip from the earth 
Ere Spring's wann kisses wake the sleeping 

trees ! 
For now that thou art gather'd to the dark 
I think of thee as of the hidden seed 
[ 140 ] 



PRAXIS AND NARCISSUS 

That soon shall burst and climb to where the 

air 
Awaits its fragrance. But the earth's a tomb 
For thee and thine, O sister ; and thy face 
That glimmers here would fade were mine to 

turn 
To where the far stars flicker. Thou art one 
With all the grieving ghosts of yesterday, 
And one with whispers and with memories ; 
And though my tears should overflood this pool, 
And heaven's high vault be music'd with my 

sighs. 
Not one might dew thy cheek's wan loveliness, 
Not one could tell thy spirit of my love. 
Yet even there, where sun nor moon may shine, 
And Silence stills the echoes of the stars, 
I am of thee remember'd ; even there 
Thou standest by the uneventful sea 
Dreaming of other waters, and of him 
Who bade thee hear the wondrous songs of them. 
How oft we saw the fingers of the Morn 
Open enamor'd roses, and the Night 
Lay gentle hands upon them till they closed ! 
How oft we two stood breathless, hand in hand, 
The while above our heads, from heights of blue. 
The field's impassion'd melodist, the lark. 
Flung notes of melting sweetness, and was gone. 
But now no song can charm thee ; thou art one 
[ 141 ] 



IDYLLS OF GREECE 



Whose day is over, and although I mourn 
Thou hearest not, who art by Death beguiled." 

HE ceased a while, but gazed with longing 
eyes 
Upon the face beneath him. Clearer now 
The features gleam'd; for now the rounded 

moon 
Had dimm'd the stars, and fill'd with mystic 

light 
The void wherein the glinting earth revolved. 
The soft effulgence swathed the tow'ring crests 
Of solemn mountains, lit the level fields 
And made distinct each giant of the woods ; 
The darkest glades were silver'd, and the pool, 
By Zephyrs now, and insects, undisturb'd, 
Was bright and polish'd like a disc of steel. 
And he that lean'd beyond the water's edge 
And view'd therein his sad and perfect face, 
Seem'd hewn from whitest marble ; motionless 
As stone itself, and just as passionless. 
And yet a thing to rouse the love of gods 
The while his limbs in Melancholy's line 
Show'd softly in the moonlight, and his head 
Droop'd like a Woe above the silent flood. 
But even now the three dread ministrants 
Of Death's decrees, the ever-whisp'ring Fates, 
Greyer than Time and far more pitiless, 
[142] 



PRAXIS AND NARCISSUS 

Were watching him, for whom the palHd moon 
And all the tinted glories of the day 
Would soon be fainter than a cherish'd dream. 
He knew it not. But soon there reach'd his ear 
A bird's shy voice, as though while half awake 
It chirp'd its dream ; then loud and louder still 
The notes became, until the shimm'ring air 
Throbb'd with the song of passion, and the 

Night, 
Despite its poignant sorrow, seem'd to smile ! 
Then from the pool Narcissus turn'd his face 
And saw the moon above. " O thou," he cried, 
" Who art the wan, white blossom of the skies, 
Who watchest ever in the odor'd fields 
Where only gods may linger, and the stars ! 
Pursuer thou of an illusive dream, 
Whose doom it is to seek, but never find, 
The one thou lovest ever. Hear, O hear, 
The plaint of him whose love is like thine own — 
As hopeless as the foam of driven seas ! 
She whom I mourn is hidden from the day ; 
Upon her breast the world lies heavily, 
And far from me, and far from loveliness. 
And song and sunshine and the things of light 
Her spirit wanders, comfortless and cold. 
Why went she hence? The daffodils remain ; 
Yon bird whose voice reminds me of her own 
Is happy still ; but she is with the ghosts, 
[ 143] 



IDYLLS OF GREECE 



With, all the hopeless and unyearning things 
That crowd the bleak, black realms of bitter 

Death. 
A little while she might have stay'd with me, 
Who loved her well. But me she left alone ; 
Left the bright dawn, the sunset, and the peace 
That follows Twilight's footsteps. She and I 
Have watch'd thy face together, hopeless Moon ; 
Thy beams have lit our wand'rings in the past, 
And thou hast heard us whisper of our dreams. 
Ah ! would that she might come to us again, 
To pity thee, and, with the olden love. 
Ward from my heart the fell approach of 

gloom." 
Then ceased he speaking for a little space 
And eyed again his beauty in the pool. 
And sigh'd the more. But all unconsciously 
The bird sang on ; and sang, and sang, and sang 
Until it seem'd the air could hold no more 
Of such delicious music. Then the gods, 
From where they dream'd amid the firmament 
And knew not yet what clamor'd in the dark. 
Bent down to note the singer and the song. 
And saw — Narcissus ! And a Wind arose 
From where it lay beyond the olived hills, 
And sped to where he languish'd ; then it touch'd 
His heavy locks and made him lift anew 
His lovely head in question. And the gods 
[ 144] 



PRAXIS AND NARCISSUS 

Had need of him, and drew the moon away 

And hush'd the bird and left him all alone. 

And when again his eyes beheld the pool 

The face he sought had vanish'd, and his voice 

Above the empty waters was the voice 

Of leaves that know their doom is very near. 

" O thou," he sigh'd, " fond sister and fond 

love, 
Where thou art gone I soon shall, haply, come ; 
Our dreams and our desires the heralds are 
To where our spirits hasten ; and our feet 
Ascend a little moment, then decline 
To paths of mist and silence. Nevermore 
The dawn shall lure me to the quest of gold 
No hand may sully ; and the Dusk shall lay 
Its kiss upon the forest, but no more 
Shall I behold the wonderment thereof. 
A little while and I shall be with thee. 
Beyond the constant sorrow of the world 
And melancholy night. Upon the shores 
Of yon dim land be thou to beacon me 
Across the awful river, that thy face 
May cheer my fearful ghost which Death shall 

shear 
Of all its body's beauty, and its hope." 
And then he sought the ever-whisp'ring reeds 
And fell asleep. But oh ! no dreams illumed 
His fringed eyes, no fancies fretted him 
[145] 



IDYLLS OF GREECE 



Or made him sigh in slumber. Well he sleeps 
Who dreams no more, who nevermore may yearn 
For that which gods found vain long, long ago. 

AND thus the Dawn beheld him, as she sped 
In robes of rose and silver o'er the world, 
Yet fain had linger'd where Narcissus lay 
So very silent. For the youth was fair 
As is a shelter'd rosebud, and the wings 
Of Death had touch'd him very lovingly. 
To see him now, one had not thought him dead, 
But sleeping only. On the grass he lay ; 
His head supported by a marbled arm. 
His rounded cheek, so waxen, lightly press'd 
Against a reed imprison'd in his hand. 
And all around strange blossoms, newly born, 
Uprear'd their frail and ghostly loveliness 
And look'd with shy delight upon the world. 
For these the gifts were of the gracious gods ; 
Who take our things of beauty, yet bestow. 
If we but knew, great blessings in their place — 
Age with its peace for Youth and its desire, 
Flowers from the dust that seem'd to us so dear. 
And there, amid the nodding loveliness. 
These starry blooms that ever hint of rest, 
Narcissus lay the while the Zephyrs touch'd 
His tinted lids in pity, ere they fled 
To sights less sad, although less beautiful, 
[146] 



PRAXIS AND NARCISSUS 

Beyond the distant mountains. Morning came 
And linger'd, too ; then yielded place to Day, 
Who stood enwrapt above the wondrous youth. 
And dried his limbs of Night's uncounted tears 
And bade the birds lament him. One by one 
They came and wonder'd, mutely questioning 
With heads a-slant why he so silent lay ; 
Then all at once they knew, and soon the woods 
Were told the secret in divinest song. 
But naught could break his slumber. Still he 

lay 
Upon his fragrant pillow, heeding not 
The Wind, the heaven's mourner, or the kiss 
Of splendid Phoebus as he bent from out 
The azure skies, unhalting ; hearing not 
The sedges' sighing or the cry of stars. 
All now for him was over ; over now 
The mad pursuit of things that are of dream, 
The idle chase of phantoms in the flash 
'Twixt dark and dark; the impotent desire 
For all that proves illusive, being won. 
Amid the ghostly blossoms he reposed. 
Amid the pale narcissi ; that might see 
The earth's unconscious beauty, and the hills, 
The stars that flamed at even ; that could hear. 
And welcome while they listen'd, while they 

heard. 
The song of Thya as she near'd the pool. 

[147] 



ORPHEUS AND EURYDICE 




ORPHEUS AND EURYDICE 




^NCE on a time, ah! long ago it was, 
And faint the wind's voice when it sings 
thereof, 

There roam'd amid the forest's leafy peace 
One loved of gods and women. For his hand 
Could tease such airy music from a lute 
That Zeus himself had noticed ; and his eyes, 
Whose fringing lids cast shadows on his cheeks, 
Allured persuasion and were ever kind, 
From early youth the lad had stray'd alone. 
Of solitude enamor'd ; and although 
The while he smote his uncouth instrument 
The nymphs would peep at him through bush 

and fern, 
And wild-eyed Manads long'd to lay their lips 
Upon his glinting curls, or touch his brow, 
He scorn'd them all and ever went his way 
[151] 



IDYLLS OF GREECE 



No slave but gentle Music's, and her king. 
With lute in hand he climb'd the tawny hills 
Or linger'd in the meadows ; and his notes 
Fill'd the sweet air about him, as the stars 
Fill the deep sky with throbbing harmonies, 
And maidens' hearts with strange unquietude. 
And when he sang, pale Splendor sat by him ; 
And Glory made more wonderful the eyes 
That ever look'd with pitiless disdain 
On fond, dishevell'd loveliness — on nymphs 
That near'd him when he rested or would dream. 
But woe to him, however high he stares, 
Who heeds not Love's advances. Beauty 

scorn'd 
Joins hands with Hate ; and these same minis- 

trants 
Of slim Diana's orders, these same maids 
And these same Maenads on a later day 
Forgot his wondrous singing and his lute — 
Remember'd he was Orpheus, wed to dreams, 
Who scorn'd their proffer'd pity, scorn'd their 

love. 
Then hai?ed they and slew him ; as the world 
Still hates the thing above the common plane. 
And slays the singer for his deathless song. 



[ 152 ] 



ORPHEUS AND EURYDICE 

AMID the crowding stars the joyless moon 
Pick'd her slow way on such a breathless 

night 
As soothes the world in summer. On the hills 
The yellow corn was silent, for the wind 
With viewless, teasing fingers touch'd it not, 
Nor stirr'd the crimson poppies in their sleep. 
Between the fields an argent river wound 
Its lazy course and murmur'd peacefully ; 
The constant willows moum'd along its edge 
With slanting firs and alders ; on its breast 
Among the waxen lilies, dusky birds 
Hid their bright bills and waited for the morn. 
But stiller was the forest than the field. 
And stiller than the meadow; for the trees 
Are solemn warders of the things that sleep 
Within the womb of earth. All day they wave 
Their lissome arms above the thing they guard, 
And bid the sunshine bless it ; but when comes 
Illusion-loving Night and all her train 
Of slinking shadows, then the trees are still, 
And still the world they have the keeping of. 
But one amid this fragrant stilliness, 
This holy hush of a maternity 
Mysterious and eternal, slumber'd not, 
But, phantom-like, sped lightly through the 

woods. 
Disconsolate and restless. It was he 
[153] 



IDYLLS OF GREECE 



Who scorn'd all maidens, Orpheus, weary-eyed, 
One doom'd to sing and suffer for his song. 
But now his lute was voiceless ; and the moon, 
The while it peep'd through leafy lattices 
And made his pale limbs paler, saw no wreath 
Of ivy leaves upon his shadow'd brow. 
Upon his lips no hint of coming song. 
And while he wander'd on he thus complain'd 
In tones so gentle that the list'ning trees 
But faintly heard. " Apollo, music's lord. 
Bright god of morning, hear, O hear ! " he cried. 
" There came to me a dream upon a time 
When I was but a child, and through the years 
That dream is my desire. For then it seem'd 
That thou, who in the pensive twilight sing'st 
In winged words the requiem of Day, 
My playing heard'st from where thou wanderest 
Among the constellations. Thou didst hear 
The songs I sing thee while I face the dawn. 
And greet thee with such music as my hand 
May draw from my imperfect instrument. 
Thine eyes grew soft, O flame-apparel'd god. 
And far Olympus warm'd beneath thy smile. 
And then from out the bosom of the sky 
An eagle downward circled, ring'd me round 
In balanced flights and ever nearer drew 
Until it poised and settled at my feet. 
And lo ! It was from thee a messenger, 
[ 154] 



ORPHEUS AND EURYDICE 

And bore upon its wings so rare a lute 
That when my fingers smote it I seem'd mad. 
The while I play'd, the trees, like happy girls 
Sway'd to and fro, and touch'd me lovingly ; 
The skies seem'd ever softer; and from out 
The sacred earth sweet flowers, before their 

time, 
Stepp'd to the dusk with question in their eyes. 
The very stars were mute ; and oftentimes 
The winds along the winding lanes of space 
Lay hush'd and breathless. When afar I 

stray'd 
To hopeless wastes of ever shifting sand. 
The beasts crept forth from caverns of despair 
And lick'd my scented sandals ; and, anon. 
The rivers roll'd no longer to the sea. 
But lay like polish'd silver 'neath the moon. 
But most I joy'd, O Splendor, when at eve 
The lovers heard my playing; and with eyes 
That ever gazed on things unseen of me 
Sat hand in hand, and whisper'd or were still. 
And when at last the pale moon caution'd them 
Against the night's advance, they slowly rose 
And, looking ever backward, pass'd away 
To dawn and hope, yet not forgetting me. 
A dream it was ; but since that golden night 
Whene'er I see the shy nymphs following 
My music's spell, I think how I might play 
[155] 



IDYLLS OF GREECE 



Hadst thou been kind and made my wild dream 

true." 
Complaining thus, he wander'd ever on, 
Light-footed, heavy-hearted, like a ghost, 
From moon-lit glades to dells of evergreen 
Where gloom and shadows linger'd. But the 

god. 
The flame-faced, bright Apollo, answer'd not. 
Nor made a sign that he had even heard. 

AND now the stars were slowly vanishing 
Amid the grey of morning. One by one 
Along the winding, wind-swept terraces 
Their lights went out, and then the sky was like 
A sombre field whence flowers have disappeared. 
But soon, where seem'd the earth and sky to 

merge. 
Where grey kiss'd grey in steely solitude. 
There show'd a blush that slowly crimson turn'd. 
And then all golden ; and, as with a shout 
A happy boy may burst upon a glade 
Where Revery has linger'd, from the East 
The Day glow'd forth and fill'd all azured space 
With song and laughter and suggested joy. 
And while he still bethought him of his dream, 
And onward strode in silence, Orpheus saw 
Beside the winding path ahead of him 
An ancient oak, a tow'ring veteran 

[156] 



ORPHEUS AND EURYDICE 

Amid the forest's warders. And beneath 
This hoary tree, this oak whose memories 
Were countless as the multiplying stars, 
Stood one, a god, who there awaited him 
As white and stilly as a thing of stone. 
But now the golden lances of the sun 
Had pierced the darkest thicket, and from where 
The youth stood startled, he became aware 
Of who this was that waited. " Thou," he 

cried. 
With eager hand outstretch'd in front of him, 
" That Hermes art that bearest for the gods 
Their awful messages, and bringest men 
Their dread commands. Thy winged shoes I 

see. 
Still smoking from thy perilous descent. 
Upon thy brow the majesty abides 
That proves thee friend of Zeus ; serenity 
Enswathes thy presence, and thy level gaze 
Compels my soul's attention. Therefore speak ! " 
And then from out the shelter of the oak 
Stepp'd shining Hermes. In his hand he held 
A lute of carven ivory and gold 
That glitter'd in the sunshine; and while yet 
The startled youth beheld him in amaze. 
And fain had spoken, he whose face was bright 
From gazing on the countenance of Zeus 
Commanded silence, and address'd him thus : 
[157] 



IDYLLS OF GREECE 



" Apollo greets thee, Orpheus, envied one ; 
Thou younger brother of the singing winds, 
And wildly joyous waters! Thee he greets. 
And bids thee hymn the praises of the gods 
On this sweet lute, which he, who loves thee well, 
Has waken'd with his fingers. On thy head, 
All golden still with sun-delighting curls. 
His glory has descended ; in thine eyes 
Abides the peace of yonder sapphire heights 
When he, the flaming-featured, sits at eve 
And hymns the downward hasting of the Day. 
Take, then, his lute, O favor'd melodist, 
O youth whom men shall envy ages hence. 
Thou still art young, art happy. Wisdom 

waits 
To line thy brow ; thy rosy cheeks must pale 
And sink as Age approaches, and thy heart 
Must open soon to Sorrow and Regret. 
But now thou art the favor'd thing of gods, 
And they would give, to prove to thee their love, 
The gifts that are to older men denied. 
The thrush is still thy brother; in the heights 
The lark's song sounds no clearer than thine 

own ; 
Thy laughter is more beautiful than prayer. 
Thy simple joy is holy as the love 
Within a mother's bosom, and thy smile 
More wondrous is than sunshine. Take thy lute 
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ORPHEUS AND EURYDICE 

And sing with face uplifted to the stars 
The song Love whispers in the ear of Death 
Who stares with chilhng eyes across the Styx. 
Thus men shall learn the beauty of thy dreams 
And bless thee as the night descends on them." 
Then still was he. And when, with downcast 

eyes 
And hands upraised, the happy-hearted youth 
Had sunk to earth, his stammer'd gratitude 
Reach'd Hermes' ears. But he, the Messenger, 
His task completed, laid Apollo's gift 
Beside the oak, and suddenly was gone. 
So pass the gods, and thus they ever come. 
An instant's flash we see them if we gaze 
With willing eyes where glints the wand'ring 

beam, 
Where sighs the wind in caverns by the sea, 
Or ghostly moonbeams linger in the dell. 
An instant we behold them, then again 
The air contains them and we know them not. 
And when at last the youth upraised his eyes. 
Half doubting, yet most hopeful, he beheld 
The precious thing all ready to his hand 
And ran to seize it. Hermes was forgot ! 

SOFTLY above the world's fresh loveliness 
The blessed sunshine trembled ; woods and 
hills 

[159] 



IDYLLS OF GREECE 



And ever-dreaming valleys felt the kiss 
That quickens life within them, in the womb 
Where unborn beauty bides till blossom-time. 
From dawn till dusk this wondrous blessing falls, 
This soft annunciation ; and the Night — 
Majestic, mild, unfathomable Night, 
Enswathed in peace, and diadem'd with stars — 
When ended is the wooing of the Day 
And all the world lies mute with weariness, 
Strange secrets whispers and sweet promises. 
But now, as when a golden-visaged god. 
Peering alone from glinting heights at dawn 
Beholds with joy a newly-fashion'd sphere, 
Careless of all around him, Orpheus found 
Contentment in his wonder-waking lute. 
For even while he breathed upon the strings, 
Bending the while above their mystery 
As bends a mother o'er her first, fair child. 
They answer'd him with music, sigh'd their love. 
And thrill'd to tell their passion to the world. 
'Tis thus the Zephyrs with eternal breath 
Lure strange harmonics from the silv'ry stars 
And hidden orbs of heaven, thus they fill 
The thirsty void with melodies unheard 
Of all except the dreamer, and the one 
Who watches from the hill-tops for the dawn. 
But soon the youth stood solemnly erect. 
With face upraised and fingers on the lute 
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ORPHEUS AND EURYDICE 

Close-press'd against his shoulder; and his 

mouth 
Was like a crimson blossom that awaits 
A secret message from a wand'ring Wind. 
And while he smiled, and while within his eyes 
A softness linger'd as in darken'd pools 
An utter peace is oft made manifest, 
The Song descended on him, and at last 
He pluck'd the strings and lured the music 

thence. 
Above his head, the moon, despite the hour 
Peep'd through the blue (as e'en to-day she 

peeps 
But sees no leaf-crown'd, later melodist 
With glowing face uplifted to her own). 
For now the air was thrilling; chord on chord 
By magic fingers drawn from vibrant strings 
Ascended slowly to the list'ning gods, 
And bade them bend in breathless tenderness 
Above their last creation. Once again 
They dream'd the beauty that was yet unborn — 
Of constant hills and plains of emerald 
And joyous forests swaying in the breeze; 
Again they knew the olden wonderment. 
Again the olden rapture. For the strains 
That reach'd their ears awaken'd memories. 
As even now sweet music wakes in us 
Forgotten dreams, and frets us with a sense 

[161] 



IDYLLS OF GREECE 



Of faint, far voices, hush'd long years ago. 
And soon the stately trees began to wave 
Their graceful arms, gnarl'd oaks and 

cypresses. 
And mournful cedars whose complaint had been 
The scorn of winds when Time itself was young. 
But when the flowers, forgetful of their dreams, 
Uptum'd their pretty faces, beautiful 
As gay-apparel'd maids in revery. 
The winds grew still like children when they 

stand 
Within the presence of a mystery. 
But still the heedless player smote his lute ; 
And when at last he gazed on common things. 
Grown weary of the splendors of the skies. 
The forest's beasts were mingled with the kine, 
While birds had flock'd about him ; then he knew 
The god, indeed, had granted him his dream, 
And deem'd himself a rival of the stars. 



OR many days he wander'd joyously 
> From dawn till dusk along the wind- 
'^ blown slopes 
Of yellow'd hills, or where the cooler peace 
Of silent woods invited. Ever now 
His lute was his companion, for its voice 
[162] 



ORPHEUS AND EURYDICE 

Was sweeter than the voices of the maids 
That tempted him from fragrant coppices 
Or hidden pools where only midges stirr'd. 
And while he play'd another life seem'd his, 
In other worlds he walk'd, wuth other men ; 
And heard them tell of silv'ry happenings 
Where gods alone assembled. Of the nymphs, 
Who spied his beauty through enamor'd eyes. 
He had no thought, nor even glanced at them. 
He heeded not their callings or their sighs, 
And scorn'd their lures and playful wantonness ; 
For dreams are Music's silent acolytes. 
And he who dreams is well accompanied. 
And yet he was not happy. For it seem'd 
The very voices heard above the peace 
Suggested things to Orpheus still unknown — 
Suggested love, although he knew it not. 
For ye that wait beside the tideless sea. 
No more aspiring and desiring naught 
Save shadow and the silence, know too well 
How thoughtless youth goes singing to the dark 
Despite the calling voices and the sighs. 
Only when all is over, and the sky 
No more is bright with flaming presences, 
And air itself is emptied of its song. 
Comes useless wisdom, follow'd by regret 
And longing for the thing that once was scorn'd. 

[163] 



IDYLLS OF GREECE 



BUT one there was in those untroubled woods 
Whose eyes were grey and restful, while her 
mouth, 
Whose crimson lips were strangers to delight, 
Was sad as with a sorrow pre-conceived. 
A slim, sweet maid, on whom pale Loveliness 
Had laid her hand, and with caressive touch 
Had fashion'd her to be a thing as fair 
As the white rose that only dreams of death. 
And yet the maid was fearless, for the swains 
That follow'd hotly when the nymphs allured 
Were silent in her presence, deeming her 
To Beauty consecrate, a child of dreams, 
Beyond desire, beyond the lips of men. 
And while she pass'd from sunlight to the shade. 
From glen to grove where dream'd the cypresses, 
The gods themselves had eyed her, with her hair 
Of ruddy brown, a-gleam about her limbs ; 
And loving well the thing most beautiful 
Had wish'd that she were gather'd to themselves. 
But still she lingered on the earth she loved. 
Not sad, nor wholly joyous; but a maid 
Who dreamt, perhaps, of others' happiness, 
And wonder'd when her loneliness might end. 
This, then, was she, the nymph Eurydice, 
Whose fate it was to blossom for a day 
Amid the sunshine and the song of birds, 
And learn of love ; and while unsatisfied, 
[164] 



ORPHEUS AND EURYDICE 

With sadder eyes, and oh ! far sadder mouth, 
To leave it all ere finish'd was the dream 
And ere the grey subdued her tresses' sheen. 

ABOVE a fragrant hyacinth she knelt 
When Orpheus first beheld her. He had 

come 
Unconsciously upon her, fing'ring thus 
His wondrous lute until there thrill'd from it 
A very glow of music ; and his eyes 
Were fix'd upon the sunset till it seem'd 
He saw the gods there, and communed with 

them. 
While yet afar the magic strains she heard 
And could not move, but still upon her knees 
Awaited him, the lovely hyacinth 
Between her fingers, longing to be pluck'd, 
And sweet, shy wonder mirror'd on her face. 
And as he near'd, her heart the faster beat, 
And fain had she arisen. But the spell 
That binds us yet whene'er the Master plays 
Now bound her fast ; and shelt'ring modestly 
Her maiden charms beneath her wondrous hair. 
She watch'd his slow and harmonied approach. 
And thought at first it was a god that play'd. 
For Glory seem'd his presence to enswathe. 
And glinting locks caress'd a nobler brow 
Than that of sun-tann'd shepherd, or the king 
[165] 



IDYLLS OF GREECE 



Whom constant care keeps questioningly pale. 

But more than all she wonder'd at his eyes. 

For his were eyes that calculated not ; 

Unf earing eyes ; such eyes as love the world ; 

The eyes one sees in visions, luminous, 

Yet strangely peaceful. But they saw her not 

Until he stood above her, then at once 

He seem'd to start and waken from his dream. 

Then ceased his wondrous playing. Naught 

was said. 
But each beheld the other ; and at last 
With such a movement as a child may make 
That fears correction from the one belov'd, 
She raised the hand that held the hyacinth, 
And slowly he received it. To his lips 
He press'd the fragrant petals ; then he spoke, 
And softer was his voice than is the wind 
That wakes the jasmine blossoms in the dawn: 
" Art thou not that Eurydice," he ask'd, 
" Of whom the shepherds speak in wonderment.'^ 
For I have heard them tell of one like thee 
With grey and wistful eyes, such eyes as hint 
Devotion and demure solicitude. 
This maid, said they, all unattended is 
By satyr or by shepherd, and alone 
Discovers each secluded hiding-place 
Of gentle faun amid the curling fern. 
This say they not unkindly, but as youths 
[ 166 ] 



ORPHEUS AND EURYDICE 

That know thy spirit's beauty, deeming thee 

As much beyond the shelter of their arms 

As the pale beam that shines from Even's star." 

And she, with gaze still fix'd upon his face 

As though it soon might vanish, answer'd: " Yes. 

That maid am I, that frail Eurydice, 

Whose heart is Night's, because the Night alone 

Is kind and gentle and the thing I love. 

Yet sometimes, as the morning call'd thee forth 

To where the hills lay gleaming, I have peer'd 

Through leafy coverts at thy golden face 

And wish'd that I were with thee, with thy lute 

And eyes of hope and promise. I have heard 

Thy strange, wild hymns, and follow'd from 

afar 
Thy wayward feet until the heights forbade 
My closer coming. I have heard thee play 
The songs of dusk, the flower's sweet requiem, 
And thrilling welcome to the envious stars 
That hasten'd out with Day's departing glare. 
And oft at night, when silent were the woods 
Save for the call of list'ning bird to bird. 
It seem'd I heard thy music ; but, alas ! 
The sound was but the echo in my heart 
Remember'd with the glory of thy face." 
Then look'd the maid away. The sun had set 
While yet she spoke, and made the sky ablaze 
As though a thousand torches had been lit 

[167] 



IDYLLS OF GREECE 



Below the far horizon. Golden clouds 

Lay pinn'd on fields of crimson and of blue, 

Suggesting deep infinitudes of peace 

And argent orbs ; and all so restful was 

One knew the low-brow'd Night was very near. 

THEN he that stood above the silent maid 
Bent low his head until his gleaming curls 
Were mingled with the dusk that was her hair. 
" Then tell me, fair Eurydice," he said, 
And held against his lips her hyacinth, 
*' Then tell me if thou knowest me by name 
Or only by my music? Night and day 
Pale nymphs have sigh'd behind me, but thy 

face 
Was not with theirs, else often had I dream'd 
And smiled in sleep to think thee close to me." 
And looking still beyond him she replied: 
" Thou art the dreamer, Orpheus, whom, 'tis 

said, 
A maid delights not. She that loveth thee 
Loves hopelessly forever ; she shall be 
Sad as the joyless willow, and her tears 
Shall be her only solace, save her sighs." 
But now he knelt beside her. " Nay," said he, 
*' Who telleth this of me hath slander'd me. 
Why turnest thou thy face away from me? 
If this were true, then shouldst thou pity me, 
[168] 



ORPHEUS AND EURYDICE 

Even as maids have wept to hear the tale 
Of Echo, or the lorn Endymlon. 
If I am cold when maids advances make, 
And turn deaf ears to whispers, blame thou 

them, 
Whose voices sound less wooing than the Song 
That draws my spirit upward to the gods 
By its transcendent passion. She whose eyes 
Would light in me the constant fires of love 
Must love it, too ; love dawn and its delights. 
Love day with all its promise. And at last 
When tasks are done, and drowsy-lidded Night 
Lays soothing hands upon our guiltless brows, 
This maid must be my temple, that in her 
My happy soul may find its promised peace." 
But naught she said, and still she look'd away 
To where the sky grew darker. In her ears 
His voice still linger'd, but her heart was 

sad 
As the sad star that pales before the moon. 
As the sad shell with its one memory. 
Then reach'd the lad for his beloved lute 
And, kneeling still, essay'd so sweet a strain 
That ere he knew it she had turn'd to him 
Her tell-tale eyes, and he was clasping her 
As lovers clasp when passion masters them. 
" That one art thou ! " he cried. " Thou art 

the pearl 

[169] 



IDYLLS OF GREECE 



The gods have dropp'd from heaven, I take 

thee now 
For ever and for ever. In thy hair 
The dusk is hiding, but thine eyes betray 
Their precious secret, O Eurydice ! 
Now seems it that white filaments of dream 
Descend about us softly, hiding us 
In utter pity from the eyes that peer 
In moody contemplation on the world; 
And all my vanish'd music, strain by strain 
Of long-forgotten sweetness, comes again 
From airy heights, where melody is stored, 
To bid my heart beat tunefully with thine. 
Thou knowest that I love thee ; for the soul 
Can hear the thought unutter'd, as the rose 
Can see thy beauty when thou touchest it. 
Answer me not ! Thy silence sacred is, 
And in those eyes the blessed words I see 
Thy lips shall tell me later. Only I 
Must wake this dark with holy promises 
That Night shall witness. Night, the pitiful. 
The hopeless and the constant. Night benign." 
But now she laid her fingers on his lips ; 
And though she wept, yet smiled she, and her 

cheek 
Lay warm against his own. And then she spoke. 
" O first, fond love, O Orpheus, my Belov'd, 
Thy vows are on thy forehead, in thine eyes, 
[170] 



ORPHEUS AND EURYDICE 

Whose light I see the while mine own are closed." 
And fain had he then spoken, but again 
She laid her scented fingers on his lips 
And smiled at him. " Nay, Orpheus, answer 

not," 
She said, and sigh'd. " Thy silence is more 

dear 
Than vows to me, who know thou lovest me. 
Thou knowest now how I have dream'd of thee. 
And still shall dream, for in her inmost heart 
A woman dreams forever of her love. 
Too well I know that thou art Music's slave. 
And she thy spirit's mistress. When she calls 
Thou shalt forget the fond Eurydice 
Who loves thee to adoring. To the gods 
Thy gaze must be directed, for a god 
Has chosen thee to fill with melody 
The crystal sphere that rolls beneath his feet. 
And even though thou lovest me the while, 
And though thy kisses sometimes warm my lips, 
Thou art not mine, my lover! Night and day 
Thou still shalt sing, shalt follow when the Song 
Compels thy spirit's service. On thy lips 
Love trembles, and thy passion ; in my heart 
My love is mute, for I a woman am. 
And woman's love is silent. And although 
I know thou art beyond me, I shall dream 
And love thy shadow, thankful that the gods, 

[HI] 



IDYLLS OF GREECE 



Who envy men their little happiness, 
Have let me love and minister to thee. 
Above our heads they sit and stare at us 
With bright, cold eyes, for they are merciless 
And love me little who have loved so well. 
But though they slay me ere the Night be gone, 
And I become to thee a memory 
As pale as this ill-fated hyacinth. 
Throughout the asons I shall yearn for thee 
And call to thee, dear Orpheus, whom I love." 
But now he kiss'd her lips. " Fear not," he 

said; 
" The gods will grant us years of happiness 
Because they love my playing. Thou and I 
Shall yet grow old together, thinking back 
To this sweet night in silence. From thine eyes 
I kiss their tears. Thy face is white and wan, 
But dawn shall find it rosy ! From the skies 
Stars smile on thee their blessing, and the woods 
Exhale for thee their fragrant incenses 
Because, like me, they love thee." Then, the 

while 
The perfect peace enshrined them, to the Night 
They told their dreams. Ah ! that was long 

ago. 



[172] 



ORPHEUS AND EURYDICE 

THE morning saw their nuptials. Nymphs 
and swains 
Were brought together by a Triton's horn 
Blown by a shaggy satyr. From the hills, 
The dells and solemn forests, they obey'd 
The festive summons, and their laughter woke 
The stilly pools before the breezes stirr'd. 
There came old Pan, his haunches wet with dew. 
And wishing he were younger ; and the maids 
Whose hearts had throbb'd when Orpheus gazed 

at them. 
Now stood on tiptoe by the hoary oaks 
To watch his nearing with Eurydice. 
For loved was he by many ; and although 
His heart was now another's, and that one 
Had mingled seldom with them, they forgave 
Because her beauty still'd their enmity. 
And while the first, faint sunbeams fill'd the 

woods, 
And little birds uplifted to the sky 
Their sweet and silv'ry challenge, through the 

trees 
The golden pair came slowly ; and their eyes 
Were like the eyes of dreamers, for they saw 
Such things as ye may see when Love dispels 
The shadow and the sorrow with its wings. 
And, hand in hand, before these witnesses 
Each swore by Zeus and the immortal gods 
[173] 



IDYLLS OF GREECE 




To love the other, to be pure and true 
Until the mists beyond the noiseless Styx 
Envelop'd them forever. Then with song 
The happy morn was ended ; and at last, 
When nymphs and swains had vanish'd in the 

green, 
And only faintly was their laughter heard, 
They kiss'd, and by the river broke their fast. 



^OW fair the earth to them that are in 
love ; 
How rare its simplest pleasure ! On the 

hills 
White splendors ever wander, and the sea 
Is joyous with a wild, impassion'd song. 
The humblest blossom, seen through lover's 

eyes. 
Becomes a wonder, and the glow-worm's lamp 
A star that flares in rivalry with suns. 
Who has not seen on iris-dotted heights 
Young lovers gazing seaward.'' Hand in hand, 
The gently waving sedges at their feet. 
They watch the growing glory, hear the hymns 
Of strong, unfetter'd breezes, and behold 
The ships go down to distant lands of dream 
Or rise from isles of fragrance. As they roam 
[174] 



ORPHEUS AND EURYDICE 

In Spring's green lanes or Autumn's listless 

woods, 
Who has not seen them, and beheld the while 
A glimpse of something holy, something kin 
To that diviner beauty yet to be? 
And years ago, in that untroubled Greece 
Whereof I sing, two lovers hand in hand. 
Thus trod the heights that smiled above a sea 
Of sapphire peace and promise ; day by day 
They heard its song, and, hearing it, forgot 
Those other voices that are sometimes heard 
Above the silence — voices passionless, 
That hint the vain illusion of delight. 
And one was ever playing on a lute 
Such music as no later melodist 
May weave from dreams, but airs as fanciful 
As breezy whispers In the purpling gums 
Or rythmic cadences of heaving seas. 
And she that listen'd.'' Ah! the stars can tell 
Of few that loved as she loved; for the face 
That flamed beside her was the face of one 
Who hears strange singing, and abides beyond 
The hollow voices and the touch of hands. 
And while he play'd, she sorrow'd, saying 

naught. 
Because she loved so truly ; and because 
The gods decree that she who truly loves 
Must pay in silence for the dream thereof. 
[175] 



IDYLLS OF GREECE 



BUT one hot noon, while Orpheus lay asleep 
And dreaming where the heavy fern was 
cool, 
There slipp'd away the sad Eurydice 
To wander in the sunshine. Bending down 
She kiss'd his brow and heard him faintly call 
Her own dear name, and fain had kiss'd again 
Had he not turn'd in sleep away from her. 
Then sigh'd she once and left him, looking back. 
Ah ! many times, ere he by trees was hid 
And seen of her no longer. Then again 
She faced the fields where call'd a happy lark 
The while it quiver'd upward through the blue. 
And wand'ring on she told of her distress 
To crown'd Apollo, lord of light and song; 
Yet spake most gently, as if loth to break 
The heavy silence with so sad a tale : 
" Far-darting god ! " she sigh'd ; " thy gift it is 
That shares with me the heart of him I love ; 
To thee he prays the while his fingers draw 
Impassion'd melody from golden strings — 
To me he turns when he no more may play, 
Of me he thinks but when his song is done. 
Apollo ! bright Apollo ! Unto thee 
All eyes are turn'd in heaven ; for love of thee 
Unearthly splendors languish, even she 
Whose beauty is the marvel of the world. 
Thou weariest of homage, for thy feet 
[176] 



ORPHEUS AND EURYDICE 

Fly ever on, until, all-luminous, 
Thy backward-blowing tresses pale the stars ; 
Thy girdle is all ruddy like a flame ; 
Thy days are mark'd with countless victories, 
And thou shalt conquer till the end of time. 
The constant Hours adore thee ; thee adore 
Bright youths and rosy maidens ; and the sea, 
The while it sings its everlasting hymn. 
Yearns for thy smile, and lifts its hands to thee. 
Wilt thou not, then, this worshiper renounce 
That I may have him wholly, I, who have 
No gift except the blessing of his love. 
No joy except in his companionship.'' " 
Above her head the lark had disappear'd 
In faintly echo'd music ; in the fields 
Stray bees were humming, and a solemn peace 
Lay softly on the pale anemones 
That touch'd her feet in pity ; and the while 
She dried her tears, a little path she spied 
That led away through yellow, breast-high com, 
And there she wander 'd. Oh, the woe of it !, 
Had she but linger'd where the fields were green ; 
Had she but heard her husband's bitter cry. 
Who e'en in sleep was troubled ; had she turn'd 
And sought the solace of the woods again ! 
For hardly was she hid among the grain 
Than one uprose before her, one whose face 
Was red with passion, and his eyes, a-blaze, 

[177] 



IDYLLS OF GREECE 



Glared in their shadow'd caverns, dry with lust. 
" Speak not ! " he cried. " That Aristaeus I 
Whose father is Apollo. Thee I loved 
Ere Cadmus' daughter came to me as spouse, 
And thee I dream of while, with perish'd charms, 
She holds me in her prisoning embrace. 
Thee sought I on the hillside, in the dell 
Where ferny couches waited ; I have roam'd 
All Greece to hear thee whisper ; and at last 
I saw thee with thy lute-enamor'd love 
Asleep within the forest. Even then 
I might have slain thy lover ; even then 
I might have borne thee sorrowing away 
To where my heights await thee. But my blade 
Was never rusted by a coward's blood, 
And still he plays, unheedful of thy charm. 
This very morn my bees went wand'ring forth 
From hives of pearl and silver, and the Wind 
Cried, ' Seek, and find ! ' ; to thee, Eurydice, 
My steps were led. Now swear I by the Wind 
To take what gods have given. Fair art thou, 
And mine this fated hour thou shalt be. 
Thou knowest all, and my desire of thee. 
That I may go, submit, and share with me 
The heavy kisses on thy lord bestow'd." 
Thus speaking, he approach'd her. But the 

girl, 
Who all this while had listen'd, loathing him, 
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ORPHEUS AND EURYDICE 

Was girl no longer, but a woman grown, 
And hated and despised him. " Thou ! " she 

cried, 
And stood her ground with arms upon her 

breast, 
" Thou art not man, but reptile ! In my dreams 
Fierce things I see, rough bears and hungry 

wolves, 
And evil birds of haggard solitudes. 
But never face so loathsome as thine own. 
Nor eyes so awful. Leave me, or I call 
To him who loves me as the shepherd loves 
The fleecy lamb that hides beside the ewe." 
Now Aristasus soften'd. " Nay," he said. 
And smiled as though his purpose were forgot ; 
" Too fierce am I for such a maid as thee. 
My days are spent in hunting; dogs and men 
My comrades are, and I was made for storm 
Rather than summer weather, like thy lord. 
And seeing thee, my passion master'd me 
Because thou art so perfect. Through thy hair 
Thy body's whiteness glistens, tempting me 
Beyond endurance, who am merely man 
And no far-vision'd singer. But, behold ! 
Myself I curb, I draw from thee away, 
As from the altar of the Matchless One 
Soil'd men withdraw the while they pray to her. 
Eurydice, I love thee ! By thy hair, 

[179] 



IDYLLS OF GREECE 



Thy heavy, clinging tresses ; by thine eyes, 
Thy greyer eyes than wings of Paphian doves, 
I love thee and adore thee ! Come with me ! " 
But she shrank back. Ah ! would that she had 

call'd, 
Or that a god had help'd her. But alone 
A woman fights while Destiny conspires 
To tear her down ; small wonder that she falls t 
And he, the foul pursuer, smiled again. 
With arms outstretch'd. " Thou waverest," he 

cried, 
" Because my passion warms thee. Come with 

me, 
And leave thy beardless Orpheus to his dreams. 
I know strange things to teach thee, mysteries 
Unknown to one who plays upon a lute 
While sighs his love beside him. Thou shalt be 
The envied maid in breezy Attica, 
And weary of me never. At thy feet 
Strange skins I'll fling ; thy perfect hands shall 

gleam 
As gleams the firmament on splendid nights 
When nightingales are singing. Thou shalt be 
The mistress of my fabled palaces. 
And queen of all my gardens. Thou shalt see 
My golden bees, and they shall follow thee 
As though thou wert of honey ; night and day 
My golden bees shall bring strange tales to thee 
[180] 



ORPHEUS AND EURYDICE 

Of red, enamor'd blossoms, till thy wrists 
Grow hot above thy pulses, and thy lips 
Turn greedily to mine for kiss on kiss. 
Eurydice ! I love thee ! Come with me 
And sit beside me while the rosy boys 
Serve wine from hammer'd goblets, and the 

slaves 
Drop scented petals on a polish'd floor 
That else might shame us with our mirror'd love. 
I love thee. Come ! " But she, who, while he 

spoke. 
Had stood with heaving bosom and fix'd eye, 
And heard with growing horror his appeal. 
Now answer'd bravely : " Beast ! thou worse than 

beast ! 
The slinking wolf abhors thee, and the air 
Must be polluted when thou breathest it. 
By such as thee, the spawn of idle lust, 
The gods are brought to judgment, and no 

more 
Men praise them as when first they ruled the 

world. 
Now smilest thou no more ! But better thus 
To face me than with honey'd insolence. 
With talk of love, and bees, and rosy boys, 
And all the horrors of thy wantonness. 
O would I were a man ! For, long ere this. 
Had I borne arms and seen those eyes of thine, 
[181] 



IDYLLS OF GREECE 



Grey death had been thy portion, and our 

Greece 
Had been the cleaner for thy taking off. 
No need to say I loathe thee. Get thee gone ! " 
And then he sprang upon her. " Fool," he 

cried, 
" Thy husband slumbers and the com is high ! 
Call once and thee I strangle. By the gods, 
I swear to spoil thee as my golden bees 
Have spoil'd full many a flower; thy crimson 

dreams 
Shall make each night a torment unto thee ! " 
And then he strove to fling her in the corn, 
Yet ever kept one hand upon her mouth 
Because he fear'd her outcry. To and fro 
They sway'd in awful silence, and the fight 
Was very even, for the maid was strong 
And knew his hand was useless. And at last 
He tripp'd, and she was fleeing. But alas ! 
While yet her laughter rippled on the air 
And all the world look'd beautiful again, 
A serpent hiss'd and struck her ; and before 
Her lips could frame the name she loved so well 
She stagger'd and had fallen. And the Day, 
When once the storm is over, and the fields 
Are strewn with broken beauties, sees no face 
So white as that the ravisher beheld 
The while he bent above her ere he fled. 
[182] 



ORPHEUS AND EURYDICE 

THE sun had set. Sad Winds were wan- 
d'ring now 
Upon the distant hillsides, and anon, 
When the mild azure turn'd to violet 
They laid soft hands upon the yellow com 
And bent it softly earthward. From the fields 
The poppies gazed no longer at the sky 
But shut their eyes before the stars came forth, 
And dream'd, perhaps, of one whose voice no 

more 
Might tell them that she loved them. There 

as well 
The woodbine and the shy anemones, 
Pale cowslips and the paler asphodel. 
The clovers and the yellow buttercups 
That nod above the daisies, ere they slept 
Heard the sad Winds go by them in the dusk. 
Above the stream, where oft Eurydice 
Had linger'd with her lover, fragrant pines 
Stood motionless and silent ; but the reeds 
Were waving gently, and the poplars shook 
As if they sensed that one, whose voice they 

knew, 
Beside that stream would sing to them no more. 
The stream itself moved slower. Here and 

there 
The waters eddied with a whisper'd sigh, 
And then flow'd on to hint the tragedy 
[183] 



IDYLLS OF GREECE 



To hopeless willows bow'd above the pools 
Whereon the perfect lilies lay in peace. 
Then came the stars, serenely one by one 
The while it slowly darken'd; then at once 
Ten thousand seem'd to peer upon the world 
And see the thing so still amid the corn. 
And while they look'd with pity on the face 
That stared at theirs so mutely, they began 
A song so sad it drew the thin, pale moon 
From out her fleecy covert in the east 
To ask of them its meaning. And the while 
She gazed in mute compassion on the fields. 
There near'd the spot one pale as she that lay 
And listen'd not — 'twas Orpheus, who aloud 
Now call'd on her ; and call'd, and call'd, and 

call'd; 
Whose wild strain'd eyes sought here and 

everywhere 
But never found his poor Eurydice. 
And though the Winds still wander'd to and fro 
And laid their ghostly hands upon his hair, 
He noted not their presence ; all that night 
He sought for her, rememb'ring when too late 
WTiat love had lain behind her lidded eyes 
And all the hidden sweetness of her soul. 



[184] 



ORPHEUS AND EURYDICE 



m 
m 



ND though he wander'd till the year 

was old 

He found her not, and heard no word of 

her 
From beast or bird. For each, the while he 

play'd 
Those sad, wild songs of his, was stricken mute 
And then forgot all else until he pass'd. 
Above his head the stars might answer not 
The question of his eyes ; and though the Winds 
Knew well where she was gather'd, night and 

day 
Their whispers were unheeded of his ears, 
And never might he listen. Up and down 
Fair Greece he wander'd. On the mountain 

crest 
He sang his grief at dawnburst ; in the dusk 
He trod the scented valleys ; but at night 
The silent woods allured him, and he lay 
And dream'd of her with eyes that would not 

close 
Until the muffled Midnight bade him sleep. 
And now he play'd but seldom, for it seem'd 
The earth was far less perfect than of yore 
When she was there beside him. She had been 
His peace, his inspiration, as the maid 
Best loved is inspiration yet is peace; 
[185] 



IDYLLS OF GREECE 



And now it seem'd a shadow took her place 

Reminding him who never might forget 

How fair, how fond that wonder-one had 

been. 
Through tear-dimm'd eyes he saw her loveliness, 
Her hair, her eyes and softly-chisell'd arms 
That ever drew him downward as the dusk 
About their whispers deepen'd ; on his cheek 
He felt the touch of kisses, soft and cool 
As spirit wings, but ever in his heart 
The ache, the longing, and the loneliness. 
And soon the corn was garner'd, and the Winds 
Foretold pale Winter's coming. One by one 
The things that make the world most beautiful 
Fell fast asleep ; and erst when laughing Spring 
Breathed wooingly upon them, and the woods 
Were quicken'd by the cadences of birds, 
Bright-plumaged, silver-throated, on the hills 
He roam'd no more, nor trod the forest paths 
In search of her, nor call'd to her again. 
For then he knew the gods had gather'd her 
Along with other forms of loveliness 
To that grey land whereto all things must 

come, 
Where Pluto reigns with hopeless Proserpine 
And whispering ghosts relate their memories. 
And knowing this, he was not wholly sad. 
To feel assured is better than to doubt 
[ 186 ] 



ORPHEUS AND EURYDICE 

Where love's concern'd, or things of conse- 
quence. 
Who knows, may act ; who doubts must hesitate ; 
And better far to learn at once the worst 
Than, fed on fond illusions, to be blown 
Or here or there, and shatter'd at the last. 
And knowing now that she he loved was not 
A thing of earth and sunlight, Orpheus wept, 
But sought no more ; then knelt, and ask'd the 

gods 
To grant him god-like courage, god-like speech, 
And strength to match that deathless love of 

his. 
Then fared he forth, unflinching, to the place 
Where yawn'd a portal to the horrid depths 
That men call hell ; and by his constancy, 
And by the wondrous magic of his lute 
Effected there an entrance, braved the Hound 
And ever-watchful Furies, and at last, 
When wastes of stony horror lay behind, 
Erect in Pluto's presence told his tale. 

AND long he argued with impassion'd words 
Heedless of things that chill'd his very soul. 
But Pluto frown'd upon him. " Mine she is," 
He said in short, sharp speech, and merciless. 
" Love's dream for her is ended. Mine she is, 
This love of thine, this pale Eurydice, 
[187] 



IDYLLS OF GREECE 



Who hides I know not where among my shades. 
Life has been hers. Earth's beauty she has 

seen ; 
The maid has watch'd the seasons come and go ; 
Has ponder'd on the mystery of stars. 
Once only may ye love, and once may die ; 
Life's sweetness and life's sorrow once may 

know. 
Thou sayest that she loved thee ; to thy mouth 
Her lips have clung in passion. She has lived 
Despite her youth; what more can gods allow .f* 
Death brings to me my tribute, but alone 
He leaves this desolation and this gloom — 
Thou, too, art forfeit ; if thou lingerest here 
Thou shalt no more earth's loveliness behold. 
Therefore, begone ! The Furies bide my call ! " 
But Orpheus knelt before the anger'd one. 
And pray'd his pity. " O dread King ! " he 

cried, 
" A year I hoped my love were blossoming 
Among earth's lesser flowers. O bitter Death, 
To blow on one so tender ! In the world 
So many are that lift thin hands to thee. 
And eyes whence light has vanish'd. These in 

vain 
Make cry to thee to take them ; these in vain. 
Hopeless and faint and weary of the day. 
Desiring naught and dreaming not at all, 
[ 188 ] 



ORPHEUS AND EURYDICE 

Wish for the peace from which thou keepest 

them. 
Thy hand is placed on youth and loveliness. 
The lily fears thee, and the gleaming star 
Curves to its end, while yet its soul is bright, 
Because thy finger beckons. Bitter Death, 
To slay a flower, or my Eurydice ! 
But thou, O King, implacable but just. 
Hast loved, and been enfolden in the arms 
That made drear hell as beautiful to thee 
As unto me my earth was with mine own. 
Delight thou knowest when thy Queen is nigh; 
And when she leaves thee, as the gods decreed. 
To bless the fields and lure the tulips forth. 
Thy heart is heavy and thou smilest not 
Till she returns with fragrance in her hair 
And in her eyes delicious memories." 

THE while he spoke there near'd the ebon 
throne 
One beautiful as Sorrow, one who moved 
Like music in that unillumined place 
And was belov'd. About her solemn brows 
Her raven hair lay heavy ; but her eyes 
Were grey with sweet compassion, like the 

skies 
That watch the earth when winter chastens it. 
And when behind her silent lord she stood, 
[189] 



IDYLLS OF GREECE 



She touch'd his cheek. " WTio, then, is this ? " 

she ask'd, 
" That smells so warm in desolation's midst? 
His hair is golden as Sicilian corn, 
His mouth is like a poppy. In his cheeks. 
That look so like a child's, so rounded they. 
The red still lingers, and his eyes betray 
A hope for something that is not quite lost." 
But Orpheus cried, ere Pluto yet might speak: 
" O Queen, frail Queen ! I seek Eurydice, 
My love, my darling. Death hath conjured her 
From off the earth, from where the sunshine is. 
And flowers, and birds, and all the things she 

loved. 
Here am I come to strive with Death for her. 
And ask her giving at the hands of him 
Who is thy lord and arbiter of hell. 
Plead thou for me, O gentle Proserpine, 
Dear goddess of the valleys and the fields. 
Whose veins are warm. By thee the bliss of 

love 
Is still remember'd, and the pain thereof 
That makes it sacred as the things of dream. 
Naught see I here but unimpassion'd eyes ; 
The air is chill about me, and my words 
Sound thinner than the voices of the gulls 
In gloomy caves by unrelenting seas. 
Plead thou for me that I may lead her hence — 
[190] 



ORPHEUS AND EURYDICE 

My love, my darling, my Eurydice — 

To where bright Day awaits us. Hand in hand 

We twain must come so soon, O Proserpine ; 

A little let us whisper, let us dream. 

Here Love is not; his wings have never stirr'd 

This murky gloom, and here his rosy feet 

Have shunn'd the paths worn deep by greedy 

Death. 
O Proserpine, who sighest and art fair, 
A little while I ask thee grant to us 
To dream our dreams, a little while to love 
And whisper vows together ere we sit 
Forever in the shadow of thy throne." 

THEN knelt he, and was silent ; but his eyes 
Were fix'd on her in such intense appeal 
That hers were lower'd. On his throne her lord 
Sat heavy and impassive, and the ghosts 
Encircled them, and sigh'd as sigh the winds 
Where darkness veils the ice-wrack of the Poles. 
Then slowly to the heart of Orpheus rose 
The chill of hopelessness ; but, ere its beat 
Was menaced by the silence of the twain. 
He took his lute, and, sighing, play'd to them 
A sad, soft hymn, love's ultimate lament. 
And while he play'd, hell's utter awfulness 
Was unremember'd as the flush of dawn 
Softens the grey of morning. Near and far 

[191] 



IDYLLS OF GREECE 



The music trembled. Haggard Ixion 

No longer strain'd his shoulder at the wheel 

No god might move ; the moaning Tantalus 

Forgot his thirst, and with protruding tongue 

Loll'd at his task and dropp'd his hated sieve. 

The crafty Sisyphus beheld his stone 

Go thund'ring ever downward through the 

gloom 
From where it poised beneath his knotted hands ; 
Yet stood enwrapt, forgetful of his sweat, 
And strain'd his ears to hear the melody. 
And silent ghosts, from whose despairing eyes 
Sweet Hope had ever vanish'd, look'd again 
On other ghosts around them ; asking them 
What god had com€ to their abiding-place 
To pour so sweet a music on the mists 
That writhed and swirl'd about them. And 

afar, 
Where lapp'd the Styx's flood the sedgeless 

shores. 
Or boom'd in caves where Desolation sat 
And glared with stony gaze upon the dusk. 
Stood one who ever waited, one whose eyes 
Were grey and sad, the maid Eurydice ; 
Who waited there for one who was to come. 
Whose heart was ever true to her beloved. 
And while she dream'd, all suddenly she heard 
The lute's soft call, and hearing it, was sure 
[192] 



ORPHEUS AND EURYDICE 

That he had come. Then tum'd she from the 

flood 
And pick'd her way across repulsive hell, 
Her guide the wondrous music, till she saw 
Her kneeling lover ; and while yet he play'd 
And gazed upon the face of Proserpine, 
She knelt beside him, and her heart was glad. 
And though she made no sign that she was 

there, 
But knelt with clasped hands and wistful face 
The while his music warm'd her very soul. 
He felt her presence, play'd no more, and tum'd 
And there beheld her. " Thou, Eurydice ! " 
He cried aloud, forgetting hell the while. 
And hell's grim ruler and his weeping Queen ; 
" O grey-eyed love, dear love of mine ! " he cried, 
Yet deem'd her but an unsubstantial thing 
And touch'd her not. " O love whom I have 

sought 
Since that sad night when all grew dark for me. 
White love of dream ! To thee, whose ears have 

heard 
My dusk-impassion'd whispers and my vows 
On scented nights repeated, am I come 
In murky hell. Fair earth I search'd for thee? 
And found thee not, nor even sign of thee — 
What brought thee here, O fond Eurydice.? " 
And then upon her alabaster foot — 
[193] 



IDYLLS OF GREECE 



So white it gleam'd against that cinder'd 

floor — 
She show'd the serpent's marking ; and again, 
As now he touch'd all tenderly the wound, 
The lover cried : " O poor Eurydice ! 

love of mine, my love Eurydice ! " 
And then all hell was silent, for the ghosts 
Bemoan'd no more their grey and hopeless fate 
In presence of a grief so great as this. 

For Orpheus now was kneeling by his love. 
And on her foot, the poor, white, wounded foot, 
His tears fell fast, while she upon his hair 
Had laid the tender blessing of her hands. 
But Pluto rose, the music's spell on him. 
His great heart soften'd by these lovers' woes. 
*' Go hence ! " he cried. " For love of Proser- 
pine, 
My spirit's consolation, I forego 
This once my rights. In time ye both shall 

stand 
Before my throne. Come then with tearless 

eyes. 
And thanking me for years of happiness. 
Day breaks above. On bush and meadow lies 
The healing dew of heaven ; upon your hearts 

1 lay the blessing of forgetfulness 

Lest future dreams affright ye. Take thy lute, 
O simple singer with the eyes of dream, 
[194] 



ORPHEUS AND EURYDICE 

And lead the way with music. To the light 
Tread slowly and undoubting. But beware, 
O thou whose heart is still solicitous, 
Thou look'st not back to where she follows 

thee 

This love of thine, whose eyes so tender are — 
Nor wait her answer, till the birds proclaim 
Hell's mouth is far behind ye. Haste ye hence 
Before I weaken and demand my toll. 
And when ye stand together in the light, 
Forgetful of this darkness, and the wind 
Intones for ye its welcome, unto her 
For whom I pardon, gentle Proserpine, 
Give praise and thanks. Take now thy lute, 

and go ! " 

THEN Orpheus rose, and climb'd unfear- 
ingly 
The upward path, and smote his wondrous lute 
That she might hear, who slowly follow'd him ; 
While envious ghosts, sweet liberty denied, 
Above his head moan'd ever, and essay'd 
To turn him back from where the Day allured. 
But close behind he heard the limping step 
Of her he loved and much it hearten'd him; 
And fain had he beheld her, fain had turn'd, 
Yet dared not look, so ever cried to her: 
" Eurydice ! O fond Eurydice ! 
[ 195] 



IDYLLS OF GREECE 



Art thou still there, O sweet Eurydice ? " 
And still he play'd, and still crept on and up, 
And sang the songs she knew and loved so well ; 
And still he heard her footfall, faint and soft, 
And sweeter than the music of the rain ; 
And still he cried — it seems I hear it now ; 
That bitter cry of yearning and of love — 
" Eurydice ! O fond Eurydice ! " 
But slowly he ascended. Far away 
The darkness seem'd to tremble ; far away, 
Yet light was there behind it. One by one 
The ghosts fell back, until their sighs were faint 
As the hush'd moan of winds in distant pines. 
And on and up he stagger'd; on and up 
Past jagged rocks and awful precipice 
And ledges that might fall and smother him. 
And still he cried, O God ! how wearily : 
" Eurydice ! O fond Eurydice ! " 
And still, behind, he heard that limping step. 
The limping step that told him she was near. 
Creep on, and up. And now her breath he 

heard, 
And oh! it sounded sweeter than her voice 
That day her lips had first lain soft on his. 
And now the air was clearer. Far away 
He heard the pleasant murmur of the world. 
The joyous anthem of the splendid Winds 
That bade him come to lead them as of yore ; 
[ 196 ] 



ORPHEUS AND EURYDICE 

He saw, he thought, the white hand of the Day 
Outstretch'd to his to help him ; and his eyes 
Were strain'd against its welcome, for it 

seem'd 
All hell would draw him backward to the gloom. 
And Death had crept between his love and him. 
And on and up he struggled, playing still 
And crying ever to that love of his : 
*' Eurydice ! O fond Eurydice ! 
Art thou still there, O dear Eurydice? " 
But now insistent noises fill'd his ears. 
And grew each moment louder, songs of birds. 
The pleasant splash of water in a pool; 
And though he cried no more, and softly play'd, 
And strain'd to catch the music of her step 
All silent seem'd behind him. And the while 
He struggled on, he doubted. Ah! so near 
The blessed world, those dear and guileless 

birds. 
That warm, suggested sunlight. Even now 
He felt the Wind's soft kiss upon his hair. 
And so — he tum'd! But even while he tum'd 
With arms so eager, so importunate. 
He saw his love, his pale Eurydice, 
Sink downward, ever downward, and become. 
While yet her eyes were fix'd upon his own 
And slowly waned the holy light in them, 
Immerged in chilling shadows. Down she sank, 

[197] 



IDYLLS OF GREECE 



And soon was lost forever ; and although 

He call'd and call'd, and pray'd the gods for 

death 
That he might be forever by her side, 
The massive rocks with pond'rous movement 

closed 
And left him there, lamenting, and alone. 



[198] 



IDYLLS IN FIRST SERIES 

PROKRIS AND KEPHALOS 
MELAS AND ANAXE 
ACIS AND GALATEA 
(EME AND (BONUS 



OCT IS* 11910 



One copy del. to Cat. Div. 



ua 19 1910 



LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 

liillllliiillllllliillllli 

018 393 930 



